To Begin Anew
by The Cold Turkey
Summary: AU. Dumbledore goes to check on Harry in the summer of his fourth year at McGonagall's urgings. What he finds shakes him to the core, and resolves him and others to make Harry's life better from here on out. Disclaimer attached.
1. Chapter 1: Darkened the Days

A/N: This is an alternate universe. It starts in the summer after Harry's 4th year and continues from that point. The launching point of Harry Potter is not mine. Were it mine I would be rolling in mountains of money. Seeing as how said mountains of money are not presently in my sight, I must conclude that said canon is not mine to claim.

WARNING: Though this is rated T, there is a paragraph of rather graphic description and there will be descriptions of implied abuse and other things later in the fic. Ratings may change later, but for now I will simply give you this warning.

Chapter 1: Darkened the Days

In the headmaster's office of Hogwarts, there was the soft chime of a clock ringing. The chimes filtered through the rather large room, echoing off the various instruments and devices that occupied the shelves. The room was also filled with the soft slumber of various portraits, the collected wisdom of the headmasters and headmistresses of year's gone by gathered for the current occupant's necessity. In the corner next to the desk sat a phoenix, looking rather ragged all things considered. It's beautiful scarlet feathers had fallen and the bird dropped down as it sat on its perch, glancing this way and that.

In a flash the bird managed three gagging coughs and then burst in a spectacular flash of flames. The outburst cause a sudden shuffle of papers and a stunned "huh," to arise from the occupant of the desk next to the bird. The man's long grey beard hung down nearly to the floor, and his hat was narrowly fixed on his head. His blue eyes had a mysterious twinkle to them in the waning torchlight, barely concealed by the half-moon spectacles that sat crooked on his nose. Blinking a few times, Albus Dumbledore looked over to the perch where his phoenix Fawkes had just flamed out a few moments ago. He smirked and shook his head. "It's about time you gave up the ghost." To this there was a small screech coming from the ashes, where a small chick now sat, having just been reborn.

Dumbledore took the moment to stretch his limbs and glance over at the clock on the wall. 9 PM. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but it was hard keeping up with all the paperwork that had come across his desk in the last few days. Letters would soon be returning from the various 1st year students, and he had a few visits to make to a few of the muggle-borns who would be arriving at Hogwarts for the first time this year. There weren't many this year, only 5 Muggle-borns in the entire first year class, but it was a duty that he personally saw to every year.

Behind him he could here the low muttering of the Sorting Hat, frantically trying to finish composing this year's song. Dumbledore thought he might make some suggestions, but had decided against it. Though he appreciated music greatly, he didn't have a single musical bone in his body as far as composing was concerned. His brother Aberforth on the other hand...give him a few firewhiskeys and he could write you a symphony.

There was a knock at the door, which brought Dumbledore back to reality. Giving an affirmation to the party behind the door, he watched as his deputy Minerva McGonagall came walking in, looking almost as beautiful as she had the day that she first walked in to Hogwarts some forty years earlier. Dumbledore didn't take time to view such things, as he noticed that McGonagall was walking in at a rather frantic pace. "What's wrong Minerva," he said, motioning for her to take a seat in front of his desk. She didn't take the offered seat, and merely paced back and forth, uncertain.

"Professor, I don't know if anything is wrong, but I can't help but feel that something is amiss," she paused for a moment to collect her thoughts.

"Perhaps you should start at the beginning, Minerva. And please, sit down. Have a lemon drop." Dumbledore reached into his desk and pulled out a candy for the woman, who shook her head. Dumbledore contemplated for a moment, before taking his wand off his desk and waving it at a small tea set off in the corner. In an instant the small burner turned on and a teabag pulled out of the cabinet above it. Hot water appeared out of nothingness above the kettle, and fell in time shortly followed by the teabag. The kettle sealed itself shut so as not to whistle and set down on the burner, eagerly chugging away toward completion. Minerva watched the display, and then turned back to Dumbledore, sitting down in front of his desk.

"A few days ago I received a letter from Miss Granger, saying that she was worried about young Mr. Potter. She said that she had not received a letter from him since the end of school and had a bad feeling. I wrote her back, telling her that she was probably worried for no reason."

"A prudent measure," Dumbledore interjected, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

"Then, yesterday I received this reply from Miss Granger, along with this," reaching into her emerald green robes she handed two pieces of parchment to Dumbledore. The first was written in what Dumbledore immediately recognized as the strict and neatly done writing of Hermione Granger. Setting the other piece of paper aside, he began to read:

_Dear Professor McGonagall,_

_I tried to ignore these bad feelings like you told me to in your last letter. But something's happened. Something that only reinforces what I've been dreading. I've sent you this letter that I received from Harry this morning. I think there's some kind of code there. I've circled the letters for you._

_Please respond if Harry really is alright._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione Granger_

Albus stopped and considered it for a moment. He knew that Hermione was sometimes overly protective of Harry, but he chalked it up to sisterly affection. Setting the first letter down, he picked up the second, and could instantly tell something was wrong. The ink was scratchy at best, the paper wasn't actually parchment but was normal Muggle paper. The writing was bad, it looked like it had been written by a five year old with the scribbles. There in red ink he could see several miscapitalized letters strewn here and there, hidden ever so slightly. He digested the brief letter, trying to piece together the meaning of the letters at the same time.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Thanks for writing to me this summer. It'S nice to here from you again. Tell me how Ron is in your next letter, I haven't hEard from him yet. _

_It's been a good summer so far. I've just beeN studying most of the time. I still haven't reaD Hogwarts a History, and I probably never will. Sorry._

_How's CrooksHanks? Hopefully staying out of trouble. Has he bEen chasing gnomes in the WeasLey's garden again?_

_Sorry it's brief, but I have a lot to do. Write to me soon, Please._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

Albus re-read the letter a few times more. It was obvious that Harry hadn't been writing. The letter lacked the spirit or usual humor that Harry was known for. He reached behind him for the cup of tea that was conveniently floating behind him, the kettle having finished it's job, and passed the second cup onto Minerva, who took it and patiently waited for him to finish.

"I didn't think much of it till I actually took the time to read Harry's letter. Albus...do you think the boy is in trouble?"

"Maybe," Dumbledore replied in a half-whisper. Setting the paper down, he found the circled letters and spelled them out. As he came to that conclusion, he looked up at McGonagall, trying to maintain a semblance of calm.

"Minerva, I believe we should collect Mr. Potter this evening and bring him and his things here for the remainder of the summer." At this Dumbledore stood up and offered Minerva a hand. "Just allow me to contact Miss Figg and say that we will be by shortly at her house." At this Dumbledore walked over to his fireplace to make the call to Privet Drive's resident squib.

_Arabella Figg's House_

Arabella Figg sat in front of the empty chimney, idly scratching the cats as they roamed around her sitting chair. She had placed a small silver tray of tea and biscuits on the coffee table in front of her in anticipation of her guests. There was an eerie air of worry about her though. Dumbledore had sounded a bit rushed when he had called her. She had just been ready to turn in that night when Albus had called her. Silently she waited, when a rush of ash and smoke drew her attention to the fireplace.

First to emerge was her friend Albus Dumbledore, clad in his periwinkle robes and omnipresent inquisitive look on his face. A short time later he was joined by Minerva McGonagall, wearing her usual emerald green robes and witch's hat. "Hello Professors," she said as pleasantly as she could, standing up to greet the both of them.

"Hello Arabella. I'm sorry that we came on such short notice." Albus took a moment to contemplate the simple house around him, and smiled at the numerous feline companions that were scattered about this way and that. "We're here to collect Mr. Potter for the summer. We're bringing him to Hogwarts early for some special training in preparation for his O.W.L's next year." Dumbledore knew it was a lie, but didn't want to scare the woman.

"I'm glad your here," Arabella replied a moment later, "I think something's wrong."

"What is it Arabella?" Minerva jumped in a bit too frantically. She knew that Albus must have suspected something, or they wouldn't be here tonight.

"Normally I see Harry every so often outside. Not this summer, I haven't seen him since he got there. And earlier tonight, there was some yelling and screaming coming from the house. I thought it was just a family squabble but...well the screaming stopped about ten minutes ago and I thought about calling you but decided against it...oh Merlin help me if something's happened..." Arabella started to get more and more worried, but a reassuring hush from Dumbledore calmed her nerves ever so slightly.

"Don't worry Arabella. We're here now and we're going to catch them off guard a bit. I'm keyed into the wards on the house and this will allow me to apparate in and out at will. I'm going to apparate into his bedroom. Now, if you'd kindly show me which one is his." Arabella looked at the man slightly, but then walked over to the window where Dumbledore had made his way. She pointed at the small window in the backyard. Nodding, Albus offered his hand to Minerva. "You'll have to do a side-along Minerva. Otherwise you won't be able to get in." Minerva nodded and took the man's hand. A moment later Albus and Minerva turned, and both of them were gone in a flash. Arabella took a moment to contemplate the lit room where they were heading.

"Merlin help us if that boy is harmed..."

A few moments later the trip through space and time was over, and Albus Dumbledore opened his eyes to the most horrific sight he had ever seen. He looked around the room quickly, and was appalled, angry, and nearly disturbed to sickness.

The room had been practically stripped bare of all but the bare essentials. In the corner, locked shut, was a trunk that Albus knew for a fact belonged to Harry. Next to it, looking rather pathetic, was Hedwig, one eye frozen shut and its feathers a right mess. The bird was thinner than Albus remembered, and it looked to have a broken wing. Quickly spinning around, Albus turned to where Harry should have been asleep, but instead he found something awful.

There on the bed was what best could be described as a quivering mass. The boy had unruly black hair that was matted in places, even more of a mess than usual. He laid on his bed half naked, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts slightly ripped along the seams. He was thinner than ever, and you could see various bones on his body as if he were a skeleton. All across his back were lashings, both recent and aged, criss-crossing like some wooded thatch roof. Albus could tell from the quick examination that both of the boy's legs were broken, and that his right arm was twisted in an unconditioned way. His left hand was gripping his pillow in a death grip, but Albus could not tell if the boy was conscious or not. His breathing was shallow and ragged, and Albus could tell that there were more than likely cracked ribs and other internal injuries. Worst of all, he was bleeding profusely from the welts on his back, and Albus cringed as he realized that one of the welts went so deep that the boy's spine was exposed to the outside air.

"My god..." was all Albus could say in a hushed tone, to shocked for words. Next to him Minerva let out a desperate cry, one that Albus responded with by grasping her in his arms in a desperate embrace. "What have I done?" Albus whispered, barely in a voice audible to anyone but himself. He shook his head and pulled his wand out. Tapping Minerva twice on the head with it, he replaced it quickly and turned to her.

"I've just keyed you into the wards temporarily. They should allow you to apparate through. I want you to go straight to Hogwarts, find Madame Pomfrey and tell her to get her emergency portkey and then apparate with her here. Harry's going to be to weak to travel any other way. Do you understand me Minerva?" There was a desperation in Dumbledore's voice that never seemed to be present, and all Minerva could do is stare at the broken form lying on the bed half-conscious, possibly half-dead, and nod her head. Collecting her thoughts as best she could, she focused on her target and popped out of the room. At that moment Dumbledore turned to find the door that had been closed open.

"What is all that racket! I thought I told you to...AHHH FREAKS!!!!" the fat man named Vernon Dursley jumped back into the hallway at the sight of Albus Dumbledore standing over the broken form of his nephew. Vernon had never seen an particularly pissed off wizard before, and this was not a good first impression. Dumbledore stood firm next to Harry, his wand drawn, a scowl across his face, his logical side fighting the rage that was building for the first time in a long time. Dumbledore's eyes glanced down to the wooden switch that was firmly planted in Vernon's hands.

"I assume this is your doing," Albus said with venom filling his voice, mixing with an ice cold tone.

"And what business is it of yours? I will discipline that brat as I see fit!" Vernon slammed his feet on the floor, and dropped the switch. No one was going to push him around in his own house...

...that was the last thought that went through Vernon Dursley's head before being tossed down the hall by way of an expelliarmus from Dumbledore. Hearing the noise Petunia and Dudley came rushing to find what all the commotion was about, eager to punish Harry again, both freezing in their tracks when they saw the real perpetrator. Albus stared down Petunia, who felt as if her very soul was being probed.

"You promised. You promised to treat him as your own. THIS IS HOW YOU TREAT HIM PETUNIA DURSLEY!?" Albus made no effort to hide the anger in his voice, and at his verbal onslaught, Petunia did the only thing she could...faint.

Finally Albus looked down at Dudley and spoke in a firm, but less forceful tone. "Aurors...wizard police...will be arriving shortly to arrest the whole lot of you. I suggest you get to any other family you have immediately." The boy stood firm, but slowly nodded his head. Albus examined him, reading his mind in a flash. He could tell that he was hard on Harry, but more of it was out of a desire for attention from his parents than any particular hatred for Harry.

"P-Professor," came a quiet voice from next to Dumbledore. Albus turned down and saw Harry staring up at him, unable to roll over to his back. In an instant Albus was down on one knee, hugging the boy as best he could.

"Sssshhh...easy now. It's going to be alright." Albus cursed himself infinitely for ever being so blind and careless with the boy. He had to rectify this situation, and he had to do it now.

"I-I'm sorry that...I...I coul..." Harry trailed off and Albus looked into his eyes. They were cold, distant, nowhere near the vibrant green that Dumbledore knew. They shone not with the glory of life but with the look of something far more sinister.

'_Merlin'_ Dumbledore thought to himself, '_He looks like an animal waiting to be put out of its misery.'_ Albus held back tears and extended his hand. Out of the corner came the trunk and Hedwig's cage, which disturbed the malnourished owl slightly. Dumbledore tapped the trunk once and watched it shrink down to where it could fit in his robes. Pocketing the trunk and his robe, he held onto Harry, as the boy drifted back into unconsciousness.

"It'll be alright Harry, I promise you." A moment later there was a sudden crack and two figures emerged from thin air. Albus looked up at Minerva and Madame Pomfrey, who's eyes were quickly widening.

"My god...what happened..." Dumbledore tried to reassure her, but the crack in his voice clued him into his own failing to keep his composure.

"I'll explain later Poppy, we need to get Mr. Potter to the infirmary at Hogwarts immediately. Did you get the portkey?" Pomfrey simply nodded and handed the headmaster a small wooden board. "Minerva, please take hold of Mr. Potter's owl if you would." At this Minerva grabbed the cage. Albus carefully placed the boy's hand on the portkey and took it as well, closely followed by Pomfrey and McGonagall. Quickly they counted down the seconds to their departure, and before long they had left the horrible nightmare of Privet Drive.

A/N: The letters in Harry's letter spell "SEND HELP." Obvious enough to draw attention from Hermione but subtle enough to escape the drull Dursley censors. Please review, I appreciate all comments and criticisms.


	2. Chapter 2: Frantic Care

A/N: Makeus Mea Muchus Moneyus!!!! waits for it Nothing? Stupid wand. Last time I listen to Lockhart...Sadly the Potterverse still doesn't belong to me.

On a more serious note, thank you for the kind words you've given me over this story. It just sort of popped into my head one evening as an offshoot thing and now I'm much more motivated to continue it further than I had planned. I appreciate all the reviews I've gotten and I hope you enjoy more of the story as it continues. To answer some questions that occurred, Snape will play a role in the future but it will not be a "Snape adopts Harry" story. This does in fact take place in the summer following the 4th year, so Harry has not taken his O.W.L.'s yet. Finally, pairings have not been decided upon as of yet.

But enough of my ramblings, on with the story.

Chapter 2: Frantic Care

After a quick spin through space and time, Albus Dumbledore found himself in the Hospital Ward of Hogwarts, a place he often found to be amongst the most comforting he had ever been. But thoughts to that effect were silenced for the moment. Collecting himself, he made sure everyone was in one piece and then removed his wand from his robes.

"We can't lift him," he said to the others gathered there. "At least not physically." Pointing his wand with a swish, he clearly intoned "Wingardium Leviosa." There was a moment of suspense, followed by Harry being lifted slowly off the ground. Gently, Albus guided the unconscious boy over to the nearest bed and softly set him down on the sheets. His breathing was still shallow and ragged, and Albus merely hoped he wasn't too late. Merlin help him if he was...

For the first time, Poppy managed to gather enough courage to check on her patient. She placed her hand on his neck and checked the small pocketwatch she carried in her apron. "His pulse is weak," she said matter of factly. Glancing him over she pulled out her wand and made a few motions with it. There was a small blue glow emanating from Harry's body, as some of the welts, including the one exposing his spine, were closed slightly and the blood stopped pouring out from them. Poppy looked him over again and then turned to the other two.

"This is beyond my skill to heal," she said, frustrated. "He needs more than what I can offer him here. We need to take him to St. Mungo's."

"No," Dumbledore said with a hint of anger in his voice. Recollecting himself he took a deep breath and replied. "No, I'd rather keep him here where he'd be safer. I'll call an old friend of mine from St. Mungo's, Carl Meadowbrook. He specializes in these cases. I'll also contact the authorities and have them detain the Dursley's." At that Dumbledore began to hurry out of the room, yelling behind his back, "Minerva, bring Hagrid and Severus here immediately." Minerva was shocked out of her countenance, and quickly followed the headmaster out of the ward.

Sighing, Poppy reached over, the usual calm serenity gone from her visage, and placed a hand on the back of the boy's head. "By whatever grace I have," she whispered to no one in prayer, "Please let this boy live."

_Pain. He could feel the lashings rip into his flesh. He had lost track of how many times his uncle had whipped him tonight, losing track somewhere around thirty, he thought. He merely laid there, his back exposed to the cool sting of air, and grimaced with each one. Finally, his uncle relented, commenting on there being more later, and then leaving the room. At this, Harry exhaled deeply, pain becoming more apparent in his abdomen and chest. Looking over, he saw Hedwig, crippled and unable to fly, and what anger he could muster drove him forward. He had to get his message out now._

_Extending his left hand as far as he could, his trunk opened and, slowly, a quill and pen emerged. Harry took more deep breaths as he tried to accomplish this task without his wand, not even sure where the extra strength was coming from. Slowly but surely he wrote his letter to Hermione, hoping she'd be able to pick up the code. He couldn't risk someone else intercepting the message and it getting back to the Dursleys. _

_When he had finished, he tossed the quill to the side so that it landed between his bed and the wall. Reaching out again, the window cracked open and a small barn owl that had been patiently waiting outside took the small piece of paper from his hand. Patting it on the head, the bird flew out the window, and Harry managed with a final effort to close it._

_He collapsed mentally, exhausted and his energies spent. As blackness came to overtake him, he could faintly make out the sounds of Vernon coming back into his room, brandishing some other device of torture. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a small light, and could have sworn he saw his parents standing there, but disregarded it as his conscious mind completely shut down._

In a frenzied state, the man walked through the halls of Hogwarts, his bag hanging from his side. Carl Meadowbrook was a healer of some renown, and he had a good deal of experience in dealing with severe traumas the likes of which his friend Albus had described. He was an aged man, with a small black goatee that betrayed his otherwise aged features. He wore a thin pair of glasses that hung slightly above his nose. His piercing gray eyes darted a couple of ways to take in the sights. Albus hadn't been specific on who is patient was, but he only knew it was urgent.

He turned toward the medical ward, eager to greet his former student. "Poppy! How are you again my...dear..." his face immediately fell when he saw the broken figure lying on the bed. Immediately he rushed over and began checking the boy's pulse.

"When did he get here," Meadowbrook said, removing his wand to take a few measurements.

"A few minutes ago," the mediwitch replied. In the time they took to run some more tests quickly with their wands, Minerva had returned with Hagrid and Snape. Poppy turned up and looked at both of them, as they came rushing over to find out what'd happened. She examined Snape's face, and could almost swear she saw the normal passive calm that he kept break away before he caught himself. Hagrid she could tell was a right mess, as he bellowed out a cry of anguish.

"Oh no 'arry no!" The half-giant began to cry, and Minerva offered him what shoulder she could as the man let it all out emotionally. Albus slowly walked in, drawing their attention to him.

"Carl, what is the immediate prognosis," he calmly asked, trying desperately to fight back his own weariness.

"It's hard to say," came a worried and slightly gruff voice from Harry's bedside, which turned everyone's attention from Dumbledore. "He's lost a lot of blood, and I think there's still some internal bleeding going on. The superficial wounds we can heal but...I'm going to have to perform surgery to get in there and find out for sure what's wrong. I need everyone but Poppy to leave." He never turned to look at any of them, and instead muttered some incantation and caused a small tray for surgical tools to appear, before beginning to empty his bag. "Lumos," he muttered, and a small ball of light appeared overhead to light his way.

"Everyone, please follow me," Albus said calmly, and hesitantly the three other teachers left the room. Once they had vacated, Meadowbrook pointed his wand at the door and placed a locking charm on it. Pocketing his wand he walked over to a sink and began to wash his hands.

"What do you think Carl," Pomfrey asked, nervously.

"I don't know," the man said with a pause, before turning back with half a tear forming in his eye. "I just don't know."

_Harry didn't know how long he had been out. He just knew that the pain had stopped for the moment. Cautiously, he opened one eye. Day, he knew that much. What day he wasn't sure. He knew he had much to do...he had to write a last will if he was going to..._

_No. He couldn't think like that. He had to keep going. For everyone's sake. He had to be. He grunted aloud at the pain in his stomach and coughed a couple of times. He looked up, risking bending his neck at an awkward angle, and saw fresh blood on the pillow._

_He heard thudding steps coming from downstairs. Vernon hadn't been able to find work again. Harry grimaced and heard his door open, his uncle drunkenly rambling about his unnaturalness being the cause of this, and that he'd beat it out of him if it was the last thing he did._

_As the pain returned fresh in his mind, he again saw the light from the last time he had been conscious. It was closer, brighter, and more inviting, but it disappeared again just as he saw the image of his mother's face appear out of the cloudy mist that formulated it. Mentally sighing, he resigned himself to pain, and eventual darkness, mentally focusing himself to block out as much as possible._

Severus Snape was disturbed. He had been actually getting a good night's sleep when, in a rushed hurry, McGonagall had awoken him. Frustrated at losing a good opportunity to catch up on sleep, he had trudged along after her, trying to ignore her.

Once he had heard the story though, he was walking with just as much determination to wake Hagrid as she was. When they arrived at the medical ward, it was worse than McGonagall had let on. Severus had almost gasped out in anguish at seeing this. As much as he hated the boy's father, as much as he thought the boy an arrogant git, no one deserved to be treated like that. His own experience drew him back to that fact, but he didn't dwell on it.

"Severus," the headmaster said, shaking the potions master out of his daydream.

"Sorry Professor," Snape said, collecting himself again, "What is it you need me to do."

"Right now all we can do is wait and do the best we can. Carl is the best healer I know at St. Mungo's and if anyone can repair Mr. Potter physically it will be him." He paused and turned back to Hagrid. "Hagrid, I need you to take care of Mr. Potter's owl. The poor thing is malnourished and looks like it has a broken wing." He pointed to the cage McGonagall had sat near the door.

"Of course," Hagrid replied, reaching over and opening the cage and comfortably lifting the bird out of it. "I'll fix her up in no time."

"Very good, Severus," the potions master looked at Albus, fully collected again, "I need you to set up a room for Mr. Potter to stay at for the time being. I believe the visitor's quarters near the statue of Atlas in the sixth floor will do quite nicely. It's close to Gryffindor common room and isolated all the same. Please take his trunk up there too." Reaching into his robes he handed the man Harry's shrunken trunk.

"Very well sir," Severus said, and he quickly walked off, robes billowing behind him, to complete his task. Albus watched him for a moment, and then looked back towards McGonagall.

"Minerva, I need you to contact the Weasley's and ask them to come here immediately. Then apparate to the Granger's residence and bring her here as quickly as possible. Harry is going to need his friends if he is to make it through this. I will contact Remus and get him here soon, after the full moon tonight." Minerva nodded, and went off to face the task at hand, leaving Albus alone with his thoughts.

Sighing, Albus slowly walked over to a nearby window and stared outside at the stars. How could he have been so blind to the obvious. He should have checked up on him more often...should have kept a closer watch on him...should have. Dumbledore tried to catch himself, but failed this time, and sank to his knees in despair, crying out his emotions silently.

_Harry wasn't sure how long it had been since he had eaten, but he knew he was far past the point of hunger at this point. He made a mental note that if he ever came out of this never to waste another single scrap of food for the rest of his days._

_He yelped in pain as another lashing, this time from his Aunt Petunia, came rushing down on him. She was yelling something about taking her sister from her or some such thing. Harry wasn't quite sure, it was hard to make out._

_Risking the light, he opened his eyes and found nothing but colorful blurs. He felt on his face mentally and found that his frames were still in place. His glasses must have finally broken. He silently cursed himself for not placing an unbreakable charm on them, but it was beyond that now. His aunt seemed to have relented, if only for a moment, off to answer her Diddykins cries for something. Harry closed his eyes again, and focused with all of his might. His mouth was dry. He hadn't been given his glass of water for the day, he knew that much. _

_It had become harder and harder to maintain consciousness, and the periods in which he could were racked with internal pain. The light that he had seen once or twice before was now his constant companion, seeming to urge him to come forward spiritually. It pulsated every now and again, beckoning him forward, but still he resisted. He hoped Hermione had gotten his letter, and that she had figured it all out. It might have been too late, it probably was, but he held out on that last sincere hope._

Frantically Poppy watched as her mentor dodged this way and that, trying hurriedly to stop the bleeding. The internal injuries had been much worse. She sat there and observed, never really actively participating unless asked to, as like a master craftsman Carl Meadowbrook attempted to undo the physical damage. Finally, after several hours, he sighed and turned to her.

"I've done all I can for now..."

_Harry was close to the end. He had come to the realization after the latest bout. Everything was a blur now, and the light was closer than ever. He was losing his focus, the pain was pulsating out of his body along with the life. He could make out the tangible figures of his parents, urging him to come forward and steal away the pain. He longed to do it, but held out for as long as he could._

_He could make out cracking noises next to him. Whatever they were they weren't from his body or his uncle. He tried to open his eyes, but found no strength left to do so. He felt around with what little of his strength he had left magically, and tried to figure them out. He thought he heard a voice he recognized. But it couldn't have been._

_He heard another crack, and then the sound of his uncle bellowing in. He heard a venom-filled voice, and a loud explosion that followed. Drawing on all his strength as he recognized the voice finally...he forced his eyes open._

"_...be arriving shortly to arrest the whole lot of you. I suggest you get to any other family you have immediately." Harry saw the grey-bearded man standing before him, and let out a mental smile. He could still feel the light beckoning him forward, dulled by the unnatural light in the room, but Dumbledore's presence gave him strength._

"_P-Professor," Harry managed to squeak out, eliciting a small response from the man, who quickly knelt down next to him._

"_Sssshhh...easy now. It's going to be alright." Harry tried to maintain his eye contact, but found it failing. Pushing forward with unnatural strength he replied._

"_I-I'm sorry that...I...I coul..." Harry trailed off. His strength was leaving him. The light was blinding even in the waking world. He stared into Dumbledore's eyes a moment longer, before closing his own again, knowing that his release one way or another was soon to come._

The assembled parties were all huddled together, waiting for the news. It had been 5 hours in surgery, and no word yet. Ron held both his sister and Hermione close to him, comforting their grief, while his brothers comforted their mother, who felt as if one of her own children was being taken from her. Arthur stood watch at the door,his happy face replaced by one of stoicism. The other professors had also gathered, and the recently arrived Remus Lupin was pacing back and forth, disheveled from his recent transformation back to human form and biting his index finger on the knuckle in worry.

Before long there was a large sound and everyone looked up to see Healer Meadowbrook emerge from the Healing Ward, his eyes bloodshot and his formally well-appearenced visage ruined.

"Carl, is he..." Albus asked for the group...his eyes twinkling with the fear for the worst.

"He lives," Carl stated with a sigh, "Physically...he'll make a full recovery."

A/N: I'll try and get Ch 3 up soon. I had to split this one up sadly, but that just allows me more room for more plans in the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3: The Thousand Yard Stare

A/N: Keep on chugging away. If I may offer myself up a shameless plug for my other story, a Year 7 fic called "Harry Potter and the Final Twilight," before we continue.

I still don't own Harry Potter. Sigh...one of these days...

Chapter 3: The Thousand Yard Stare

There was a collective sigh of relief, a few tears of joy, and more than a few nightmares cut short at Meadowbrook's announcement. For his part, Dumbledore merely looked down, and silently thanked Merlin that he had been in time.

"It was close," Meadowbrook continued, slowly walking toward the window and gazing out at nothing in particular. "A few more minutes Albus and the boy would have been beyond anyone's care. As it is I'm amazed he survived as long as he did." He trailed off, and summoned a chair from the still open medical ward and sat down. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, as the assembled party sat and waited for him to continue. When he didn't, Ron was the first to ask.

"What happened to him? What did they do to him?" His mother chided him for being so blunt, but silently wanted to know as well. The man named Meadowbrook stopped rubbing his eyes and leaned forward, his hands folded slightly under his chin, as he tried to remember everything.

"His body was a wreck. In addition to all the welts and bruises that you found with him Albus," he pointed to the wizard and continued, "both of his legs were broken with multiple fractures. You might have noticed his shin bone sticking out of the skin slightly on the left.

"His right arm was broken right along the elbow with almost all of the tendons torn. His wrist was broken there too. I can't be sure, but I believe he suffered some blunt trauma to the head, he exhibits some of the signs of a mild concussion. But those aren't even the major injuries." Silently, Severus Snape glanced over the man and looked at the bed where young Potter lay behind some hastily drawn up bed curtains. He made a point to see the boy for himself up closer later that night, and turned back to Meadowbrook who was continuing.

"His worst injury was to his abdomen. Two or three days ago, I can't be sure, the boy suffered a partially ruptured spleen." There was a collective gasp of silence from the group. "There was a lot of internal bleeding. He also had four broken ribs and a partially collapsed lung. On top of that was the beginnings of a staph infection that if it had been left untreated...even if he had survived everything...would have likely left him dead or, best case scenario, paralyzed." The matter of fact way in which he spoke left more than a few of the boy's friends unsettled, and Hermione and Ginny were both finding it difficult to hear it. They tried to stay strong. If Harry could survive everything he had been through, they could sit through this.

Arthur Weasley stood and watched, a small gasped look on his face. He had always had a fascination with muggles, but never in his wildest nightmares could he have imagined it like this.

"Carl," Albus finally spoke, his voice having returned to a calm serenity that the people there were more used to hearing. "You said that Harry was fine physically. What about mentally? Emotionally?" There was a pang that crossed the healer's face, one that everyone picked up on. Remus sat down next to him, and offered him a reassuring shoulder.

"Whatever it is," he said, "we can help him get through it." Carl shook his head, still obviously shaken from his limited investigation.

"You don't understand what you're up against sir," he said, standing up again and looking back out the window. "After I finished the surgery, I used a combination of modified legilimency and a pensieve to view some of Mr. Potter's memories from the past few weeks...and what I found disturbed even me. I went deeper and we're lucky the boy is in as good of shape as he is." Mrs. Weasley let out a small yelp at this, causing her husband to grab her by the shoulder. He could have been worse off? Was the thought that coursed through both of their minds.

"I found mental evidence that Harry has been emotionally abused since he was a very young age, possibly as early as three years old from what he can tangibly remember." Albus' face dropped at the bit of news. "Physically...it's harder to say. But I think it was sometime after that, probably around six or seven was when the beatings began..." he trailed off again, struggling to continue.

"W-was there any..." Snape began to say, but a tremble in his voice betrayed him. With everyone looking at him he shook his head and began again. "Was there any evidence of abuse of a...sexual...nature." Everyone turned to look at Meadowbrook, who's face answered the question without him speaking.

"There's no mental evidence," he replied, but adding, "but my physical examination showed that there might have been some sexual abuse recently, yes." At this, Ginny finally collapsed in tears and ran off. A look from Molly sent Fred and George running after her, trying to collect her and her thoughts. Ron was the only person who did not have a morose look on his face. His anger was flaring up, and he had sworn then and there that the Dursley's would pay for what they had done, Azkaban be damned.

It would have surprised Ron at how many people actually had that very same thought go through their heads at that moment in time.

Meadowbrook paused again before continuing, "I believe Mr. Potter will suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. It's a disease that you might call battle fatigue or survivor's guilt or any of its incarnations. It happens when the mind is presented with a serious of events that it can't cope with. The severity can range from mild to incredibly severe." He turned and looked back at where Harry would be laying, "Right now he is resting comfortably, but the next few days will be critical to determine how much of his emotional state has been damaged before we can begin treatment."

"Will he ever come out of it," Remus asked, worry in his voice.

"Uncertain," was the only response he got. Carl quickly changed the subject.

"As I said," Carl returned, his demeanor leveling off, "I'm surprised he's even alive. The only thing keeping him alive must have been force of will. That and the fact that he's a more powerful wizard than we ever give him credit for."

"What do you mean," Dumbledore responded. He knew the boy was powerful, and partially knew why he was so, but was curious as to what exactly had gone on.

"One of the memories I viewed showed him summoning the quill and paper to write a letter, left-handed, to Miss Granger. He accomplished this all wandlessly." He let that linger for a moment before adding, "but that's not even the most amazing part. His internal wounds were not near as bad as they should have been. I think that he might have actually been healing himself."

"That's impossible," Hermione said, her face awash with knowledge. "Even the most powerful wizards are incapable of doing wandless magic like that." Dumbledore nodded his head at this, somewhat ashamed, but in agreement.

"I know it should be impossible," Meadowbrook returned, "But that's the only logical conclusion I can come to."

Standing up and stretching, the man began to make his way for the back of the hall. "I'm going to have to lie down for a while, I'm too tired to continue. Let the boy rest and leave him be for now. I'll be back to check on him later." At that everyone bid him goodbye and let him trudge off, heading for a well-earned rest.

Many of the particulars also headed for rest, though many stayed up to maintain an active vigil for Harry. None of them enter the hospital ward for fear of disturbing him. They merely gathered in silence. Dumbledore had rooms drawn up for the lot of the Weasley's and Hermione for the duration of their stay.

In his own study, Dumbledore was pacing back and forth. His mind was a blank slate, and his soul was being racked with guilt. He kept asking himself the same question over and over. If only he had checked on the boy. Why didn't he?

He just simply assumed that everything was alright. He had noticed some signs, in retrospect, that the boy was being neglected, but he never suspected anything on this level. And why now? Why had all of a sudden the abuse turned to such a drastic level? There was a knock at the door, drawing Dumbledore away from his study.

"Enter," he said matter-of-factly, the joy gone from his voice. He looked at the opening door and saw Remus Lupin walking in.

"Hello Professor," Lupin said, trying to be as cordial as possible. He waited for a moment before closing the door and coming closer to the desk.

"Hello Remus," Dumbledore replied, his voice lower than normal. Both of them simply sat down and not a word passed between them for a few moments. Finally, Albus spoke up, "How's Harry?"

"No change," Lupin replied, already knowing that Dumbledore knew the answer. His eyes looked up at the various portraits surrounding the room and he wondered exactly how much knowledge they had imparted to Dumbledore over the years.

"Remus, I want you to know that..."

"Save it," Lupin replied, raising his hand. "I could have easily checked on him as anyone. We're all at fault." They both paused before Lupin continued, "I came here to talk to you about Harry's future. Obviously we can't send him back to the Dursley's...where is he to stay when the time comes?"

"I'm not sure," Albus said, finally. "But I can already tell you that the Ministry would frown on Harry having a werewolf for a guardian." Remus looked dejected, but kept his hope up as he continued.

"Maybe not," he replied, reaching into his robes for something. He pulled out a small book and placed it on the Headmaster's desk, causing Dumbledore to lean forward and consider the title.

"The Inner Workings of the Animagus?" Albus considered it for a moment before Remus made his case.

"I think Harry was studying to become an Animagus...so that maybe he could leave there once and for all. He sent me a letter telling me he had a surprise for me the next time he saw me. I got that just before the school term ended." Albus considered it again before handing the book back to Remus.

"Be that as it may, the more immediate future will likely see him placed in the care of the Weasley's. He's practically their child anyway." Remus looked down with a frown, but silently nodded his head. Putting the thoughts out of his mind for now, he turned back to the Headmaster.

"Speaking of guardians, what is to become of the Dursley's?" Albus nearly smiled at this.

"They've all been captured...apparently young Mr. Dudley didn't take my advice quick enough. They're currently being held at the Ministry pending trial. I'm the one pressing charges, and Meadowbrook has already been appointed Harry's guardian ad litem. Fudge obviously wants the boy transferred to Ministry care immediately, but I have enough friends left in high places that it won't happen anytime soon." Remus nodded at this and paused, unsure of whether to continue. "Anything else Remus?"

"Yes sir...well...Sirius is going to want to know about this. He'll want to see Harry as soon as possible." Dumbledore frowned again, he figured this was coming sooner or later.

"I will welcome him here, but no one else besides the staff and the Weasley's are to know he's here. He's still wanted by the ministry after all." Lupin nodded, and bid his farewell, off to contact Sirius. Dumbledore once again returned to his melancholy vigil over his study upon Lupin's departure. Something more was gnawing at him, and it was a confession he wasn't too keen on revealing anytime soon.

Eventually the night fell at Hogwarts. The darkened sky was illuminated only by a slight waning moon, the full moon having passed the night before. Harry slept as comfortably as he could in a dreamless sleep, alone in the medical ward as he had been the past 24 hours.

Silent as a hawk a singular figure appeared in the medical ward, his black robes hiding him in the darkness. The moonlight however reflected off his pale, nearly gaunt skin. The man simply stared down at Harry, his eyes giving away slight hints of emotion. Severus Snape examined the boy physically. He was bandaged all over across his chest and back. Both of his legs were elevated in casts, and his arm was held in a sling. There was a bandage on his forehead, covering his scar as well, while a new pair of glasses had been set aside next to him. He was still horribly thin, malnourished from weeks of lack of food, though that would soon change if Mrs. Weasley had her way.

Snape walked a bit closer to the boy, his eyes firmly fixated on his slumbering form. "I don't know if you can hear me Potter," he said in an even tone, "and I don't know if you'd care anyway. You probably could blame me for what has happened, not that I'd hold it against you." He paused a moment, contemplating his words before continuing. "I often suspected you were...beaten...somewhat...but not like this. Not this bad. " He stopped and collected himself before continuing.

"I'm not here to find forgiveness...but to give you something...understanding. I know better than anyone here what you've gone through Pott...Harry. Not because of anything your father did to me or anything I did to myself. It was...my own father...who abused me as a child." For the first time in a long time a single tear escaped the corner of his eye. "So you see...I know what it's like...even in the slightest..." he breathed deeply a couple of times before turning away.

"You probably don't understand right now, but that's alright. I swear to you Harry...I swear to you I will help you through this. I owe that much to you. I owe that much to your mother." A moment later, Snape turned back and looked at Harry, adding "I'm sorry." as his final statement. Silently he turned back and stalked out of the room, fading away into the darkness.

A/N: Shorter than I would have liked this time, but hey can't have everything. Might be a few days before the next update. I do have a life you know (though it doesn't appear so.)


	4. Chapter 4: The Best of Intentions

A/N: Hopefully this fic won't wind down, as I'm a little uncertain of where to take it.

Yep...still not mine.

Chapter 4: The Best of Intentions

Albus Dumbledore decided he couldn't sleep anymore. He hadn't really been able to sleep in the first place. After much fighting of the inevitable insomnia that was consuming him, he angrily tossed his pillow off his bed and grumbled out of bed. He passed through the archway that led to his quarters and into his office and sat down at his desk, thinking maybe work would put him down. He looked around for a few minutes before realizing that he had tried this once before that night and had finished all of his paperwork at the time. Grumbling to himself again he stood up and walked around the room, checking the various instruments in his office and again muttering to himself at finding them stubbornly undisturbed.

Albus fell back into his chair and tapped his head repeatedly with his wand. He repeatedly closed his eyes and opened them again, saying some things under his breath that only he could understand. He glanced up in the corner at Fawkes, who simply regarded him with a cocked head and an inquisitive trill.

"Aren't you a cheeky one," Albus replied, still a bit grumpy. To this Fawkes simply trilled again, to which Albus sighed and stood up. Waving his hand at the bird he muttered, "Yes yes fine then I'll go for a walk." Dumbledore shook his head and wondered how he ever had the misfortune to be stuck with a bird that could read him like a book.

He hadn't intended on going to Harry's bedside. Quite the opposite in fact. He wanted to be anywhere but there at the moment. Just seeing the boy again brought out feelings of guilt and shame that he didn't quite want to face right now. Nevertheless he currently found himself staring down at the boy, a darkened look across his face. Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape had begun brewing nourishment potions for the young lad, but it would be awhile before he was strong enough to walk, let alone be the person that Dumbledore had come to love as a grandson.

Dumbledore glanced down at him and took stock of Harry's physical well-being. He had been tossed into a hospital gown and was neatly tucked into the bedsheets, sleeping as peacefully as one of Meadowbrook's sleeping draughts could make a person sleep. Dumbledore knew better though. Beneath the calm exterior he could make out the gaunt figure that was emaciated near the point of starvation. He knew the road to recovery would be long, for everyone involved.

He didn't know how long he stood there, but he soon knew that he was not alone. He glanced up and saw that his friend Meadowbrook had joined him. The healer stood next to Dumbledore, not saying a word, but instead gazing out over their respective charge. Albus had known the man for several years, and was sure that if anyone might be able to help Harry through this, it'd be him.

"How is he," Meadowbrook asked, shaking Dumbledore out of his silence. Albus turned to look at the man, but found that Carl's gaze had not left the patient before him.

"The same," came Dumbledore's short, curt reply. There were several more minutes of silence followed by Meadowbrook turning to Dumbledore and observing the man who was slowly stroking his beard, deep in his own thoughts.

"You shouldn't blame yourself Albus," Meadowbrook said finally, drawing the elder wizard's attention. "You assumed that his only living relatives would treat him like a human being. You made the assumption that any one of us would have made at the time." Dumbledore nodded and turned back, not really talking much in response, but simply airing his feelings.

"Minerva warned me you know. The night I left him there on their doorstep. She warned me that these were the worst types of muggles she'd ever laid eyes on. But I ignored her. Against her better judgment I ignored her. I only did what I thought was right...rather than what would be easy."

"Sometimes Albus," Carl replied matter-of-factly, in a much less harsh tone than was expected, "the easy thing to do and the right thing to do are one in the same." Albus lifted his head and looked at Meadowbrook with a small twinkle in his eyes. And for the first time in a long time, a small smile curled at his lips.

"How long will he be asleep," Dumbledore asked, turning back to the slumbering Harry. Carl stroked his chin, mentally doing the math in his head.

"A few days at the longest," he finally responded. "The draught I gave him was rather powerful and I hope that his body takes the cue and stays asleep. Right now that's the best thing for him. Poppy can administer more nourishment potions in the morning to help him get up and about again sooner." He shook his head again and walked over to an adjacent bed. Albus turned to look at him.

"What's wrong Carl?"

"It's the Ministry," he finally responded, "They've found out somehow. The press hasn't been informed, and I have some connections with the Prophet to help quell the stories but..." Meadowbrook stopped rambling a moment and closed his eyes. "We were facing an uphill battle simply dealing with the people who did know. At least they were the ones that Harry trusted and cared for. Now...now he'll have to deal with everyone else.

"The worst thing that happens to an abused child is their inability to trust. Particularly a case this bad. We don't know how badly Harry has been hurt emotionally, but it wouldn't surprise me if he recoiled from everyone based on instinct. We're both lucky and unlucky in this respect." Meadowbrook paused and took a seat on the bed, with Dumbledore joining him moments later. "We're lucky in that he knows people know that can help him through what he's been through and help him to move on with his life. We're unlucky in that it took us so long to find out...and the last three weeks have been a living nightmare. When I took my nap a few hours ago...I had nightmares. About what I saw in the pensieve." There was a poignant silence between the two, and Albus lowered his head in shame again, still cursing himself for being so blind to the obvious.

"Harry is unique," Meadowbrook continued. "For most of his young life he dealt with the abuse the same way most children deal with it. They retreat emotionally and become...what's the best word to describe it...almost like a machine. He operated solely on instinct and repressed every emotional response he could. When he came to Hogwarts though, something changed." Meadowbrook set his glasses down on the table next to him and gazed into Dumbledore's eyes.

"When he came here, those emotions were let out for the first time. For the first time since he could ever remember, Harry felt the simplest of emotions, joy chief among them. When he went back to the Dursley's it was even harder for him because these two different emotional identities had trouble reconciling themselves."

Albus simply offered up a nod and stood back up. He gazed down over Harry in a protective manner. He still couldn't shake the doom that filled his mind that had yet to come. "You mentioned earlier his power...how was he able to heal himself?"

"I can't answer that," Meadowbrook replied, frustrated with the lack of insight. "And I doubt that Mr. Potter can either. I do think it's why he's so emaciated though. From what I saw he's always been thin, especially for his age, but he shouldn't have been this thin even if he hadn't had anything besides moldy bread in the last three weeks. I think his own power was burning his body out trying to keep itself alive. It's almost a paradox...to try and keep oneself alive by killing oneself, but it worked. It staved off death long enough for us to find him."

"Long enough for his friends to bring it to our attention anyway." Albus had made a silent note to thank each and every one of them.

"They will be important in the coming months and days," Meadowbrook said as he turned away, heading. He turned back and motioned to Albus, "Come on, let's get something to yet. He still won't be up for a while yet."

"I'll be with you in a moment Carl," Dumbledore replied in a soft yell. He waited for Meadowbrook to leave the ward before walking back to Harry. Albus gently lifted the boy's hand into his own and whispered to him.

"I only ever had the best of intentions Harry. I never wanted to see you hurt in anyway. And I swear to you, I will make this right again. No matter what it takes." He gently placed the boy's hand down at his side and walked out of the ward, careful not to make any noise. If he had stayed a moment longer, he might have seen the look of calm on Harry's face distort just slightly as he fought from behind the veil of sleep, and offered a small smile that faded as quickly as it came up.

Elsewhere sleep had eluded three young Gryffindors. They had been sent up to their old dorm rooms for the time being, seeing as how there was little place else to put them. However they currently found themselves sitting in front of a fire, none of them saying much of anything. Hermione was trying her best to find solace in reading her favorite book, _Hogwarts: A History_, yet again, while Ginny and Ron were engaging in a game of chess.

"Bishop to e4," Ginny intoned clearly, and watched as her bishop took Ron's Rook, and placed Ron in mate. "That's game," Ginny announced, without a single ounce of happiness in her voice. She looked up at Ron sorrowfully, and began to put the board away rather than beat him a fourth time in a row.

Hermione glanced up from her book long enough to see something etched across Ron's face. She knew that all of them were taking what had happened badly, and none of them had actually seen the horrid sight of Harry at the Dursley's. However with Ron it appeared to be something deeper, something more to it. She shook her head and went back to her book, unaware that Ron had stood up and walked towards the fire. He leaned against the mantle, his face inches away from the flames, and closed his eyes, letting out a terribly pained sigh. "I should have said something," he finally muttered, bringing Hermione back from her book and Ginny away from a book she had just picked up.

"What do you mean Ron," Hermione asked , unsure of what he meant.

"I'm saying I should have said something...to anyone...Dumbledore, Lupin, McGonagall...heck even Snape." Ron banged his head repeatedly against the fireplace mantle, causing Ginny to walk over and place a hand on his shoulder.

"You couldn't have possibly known," she said reaffirmingly, though she suspected that it was partially a lie.

"But I did know...at least..." he walked away from the fireplace and collapsed on a chair. Leaning forward he buried his head into his arms that were folded across his lap. He let out a few deep breaths before continuing. "Right before our second year...I saw the bruises. They were slight and were fading, but I could tell what had caused them. As soon as Harry found out I suspected something he pulled me aside and made me swear not to tell anyone. Swear on my life that no one would find out from me." Hermione and Ginny could see the scene replaying itself in his eyes, and as usual Hermione spoke up first with her usual tone.

"And you swore. Ronald Weasley how could you of," she exclaimed, a hint of anger raising in her voice. Ron merely hung his head in shame, fully anticipating everything he got. To his surprise he heard Ginny come up and stand in between he and Hermione.

"Leave him alone," Ginny exclaimed with a voice that Ron had rarely heard come out of her mouth. He looked up and stared at his baby sister with eyes unshaded by age bias, and saw more than a hint of his mother in her stance. He also noticed Hermione had taken a few steps back. "Can't you see this is eating him up inside," she motioned to Ron. "Yes you're right he probably should have told someone but..." she looked over at her brother and smiled," but to him the trust of a friend was more important than practically anything. There's something to be said for that kind of loyalty, even if it was rather dangerous." Ron tried to smile, but couldn't. He wasn't expecting the half-defense, half-chiding he was getting from Ginny.

Hermione sat down in a heap and sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry Ron."

"It's okay," Ron said matter-of-factly, his head hung low again, "I deserve every bit of it." Ron stood up at this and proceeded to head up the stairs. He turned and bid the two girls good night, and headed for his room. Hermione was close to follow, finally trying to get some sleep. Ginny remained awake for a little while longer, simply sitting around the fire. Looking around, though she knew no one was really watching, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small book that Harry had given her for Christmas the previous year. It was actually a small photo album for anyone she wanted to put in there, as a thanks for being one of the few who had supported him during the tribulations of the Triwizard Tournament. In it she had pictures of her family, Hermione, a few of the friends that she had, but the one picture she constantly kept at the forefront was the one picture she had of Harry. She had practically forced Colin to take it at the end of their third year, just before they got on the train. She looked at the boy's smile and his sparkling emerald eyes, and tears began to well up in her eyes. How could anyone ever want to hurt someone who had such a good heart.

Truth be told, Ginny had never really gotten over Harry, and she still hoped that he would soon recognize that she was more than his best friend's sister. It was a dream of her's she frequently visited. Idly she smiled and hoped that there was more than just a dream there. Silently she closed her eyes, the book still open to Harry's page, and fell asleep, a smile across her face as she longed for better days.

It was a dream that another girl in the Gryffindor tower shared, although slightly different in perspective.

Sleep was not eluding just the Gryffindors on this night however. Far away, in a home hidden away from view of everyone, Lord Voldemort sat on his onyx carved throne, his eyes closed, his head seemingly in pain. With a start his red eyes opened to a slit, and he glanced around. "Wormtail," he pronounced in a slightly hushed tone, drawing his faithful servant forward to cower at his feet, silver hand shining in the torchlight.

"Y-y-yes master," Pettigrew stuttered, trying to show as much humility as possible.

"My enemy is hurt," Voldemort said coldly, "We must find out why. I trust you are up to this task." The look Voldemort gave Wormtail caused a shudder to fly down the latter's spine.

"Of course my lord," Pettigrew returned, still nearly nailed to his knees, "I will find out immediately." At that, Wormtail scurried off to find out what news he could. Voldemort watched him leave, and practically rolled his eyes, all the while muttering to himself.

"Harry, Harry, Harry, whatever could they have done to you?" Voldemort chuckled with a sneer and stood up to prepare for bed.

A/N: Voldemort's role in the story will be minor, but you will see more of Wormtail I promise you.

Plan is next chapter for Harry to finally wake up. I have this planned out to about ten-twelve chapters, but not all of the plans are finalized, including pairings if there are any. It also could get longer if new ideas flash in my head. Please review, this or any of my stories, as it helps motivate me to stay current on updates (read, the more reviews the quicker I update).


	5. Chapter 5: Awakenings

A/N: Those of you who have been waiting for Sirius to make an appearance...wait no longer. Furthermore, those concerned with Mrs. Weasley and her mother-hen attitude, you'll get an answer here.

Chapter 5: Awakenings

The Lupin cottage was not a large one. Seeing as how Remus was currently unemployed, only receiving a monthly stipend from Dumbledore for various duties that he could do in his time off, Lupin knew it was all he could afford. Fortunately his money was enough to keep the pantry well-stocked for a visitor.

Sirius Black was sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels of something called television. He had discovered the device in his solitude and found it absolutely fascinating. He had never given much credit to Muggles for anything, but they certainly did know how to entertain themselves. Idly he reached into a back and pulled out a small chip. Popping it into his mouth he added, and they do know how to feed themselves as well.

Sirius was a bit at unease, however. He hadn't heard from Remus in days, and that his old friend had been called away to Hogwarts on some urgent manner. Though Sirius had pleaded with Remus to let him come, if for no other reason than to get out of this small prison that had been created for him, Remus had stood firm and said no to it. That had been three or four days ago by Sirius' count. He was growing impatient. He had half a mind to go there himself. Simply floo into Dumbledore's office and figure out what the hell was going on.

A green flash from the fireplace alerted him to the arrival of his good friend. Sirius turned off the television and stood up to draw Lupin into a greeting hug, but stopped when he saw the look on the man's face. His face was drawn in a frown and his wrinkles were accentuated. "Remus what's wrong?" Sirius asked, any hint of joviality gone from his voice. Remus looked up at the man and pulled out his wand. With steeled resolve, Remus quickly pointed it and exclaimed, "Petrificus Totalus!" Sirius had no time to dodge the curse and was instantly paralyzed. He fell down in a sitting position back on the couch, unable to move anything besides his eyes. Remus replaced his wand and sat down in front of Sirius.

"I'm sorry I had to do that Padfoot," Remus began calmly, "but I can't have you gallivanting off like a hero with a death wish like the last time something this bad happened." Sirius went through his mind as he absorbed Remus' meaning. The last time? The last time had been when James and Lily...

Sirius' eyes went ballistic as he quickly deduced that something was wrong with his godson. Remus simply sat there and placed his wand in front of him should he need to stun him. "Sirius...I need you to be calm about this right now. Harry needs you to be calm right now. You're...well let's just say he needs all the support he can at the moment.

"A few days ago Miss Granger, Harry's friend, sent McGonagall a letter that she was concerned for Harry. As you have been seeing as how none of your letters were read either. Through some machination of his Harry was able to draw enough attention to get Dumbledore to check up on him..." Remus paused as he tried to cope with what he was saying. The look in his friend's eye had turned from one of anger and franticness to one of profound sadness and worry. "What they found was, appalling. I won't go into all the gory details but suffice it to say, Harry was in a bad way. He...he was almost dead." Sirius' eyes stopped moving, near tears. "He lives Sirius, they found him in time.

"He's at Hogwarts now recovering. Poppy and a man named Meadowbrook have taken good care of him. The Weasley's are there, as is Miss Granger, and they are watching over him while he recuperates." Remus paused and allowed Sirius to calm down, though profound sadness was still etched at the lines of his eyes. Silently Remus picked up his wand and pointed it at Sirius. "I will release the curse as long as you promise me you won't go heading for the fireplace first thing. Blink three times if you swear it." Sirius quickly did as he was told, and Remus flicked his wand, releasing the curse. Sirius let out two deep breaths, and instantly was flung forward in anguish. Before long the anguish had turned to anger.

"I'm going to kill them..." he muttered under his breath, causing Remus to lean in further to hear what he said. "I'm going to kill those heartless bastards who did this to him. I don't care if they send me back...I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL THEM!" Sirius stood up and regarded Remus, who had his hand up in a futile attempt to calm him.

"The Ministry already has them in custody," Sirius continued walking over to grab a cloak from the coat rack that hung near the door.

"I don't care...I can break out of Azkaban...I can break into the Ministry. Merlin himself won't stop me. They can do what they want with me afterwards..." Sirius had the same look in his eyes he had when he had found out about Peter's betrayal. Sirius headed for the door, not really breaking his oath to Remus, but Lupin fired a shot with his wand at the door, locking it solid.

"If you get captured again then you'll kill Harry," Remus said coldly. Sirius stared at his best friend and squinted as he stared him down.

"Are you daft? I think those rotten Muggle relations of his have done a bang-up job of trying to do that anyway!" Sirius made motion for the door again to break it down, but Remus quickly jumped between him and Sirius, pointing his wand dead in the man's face and eliciting a deep growl from the slightly off kilter fugitive.

"Think about it Padfoot. He's practically lost everything as it is already. He's lost his parents, his childhood, his innocence...the only things he has left are his friends and family, and right now you're the only one who falls under the second heading. If he loses you, it could drive him over the edge." Sirius stared at the man for a while, his love and compassion for Harry combating with his desire for revenge. Finally, Sirius began to wrench his hands together and took several deep breaths. Nodding his head and whispering to himself, Sirius took another seat on the couch and tried to calm himself down.

"I want to see him," he finally said, resolved, standing back up after several minutes. Remus nodded and motioned to the fireplace.

"Dumbledore thought you might. He's already informed the staff of the matter of your innocence, though you might get a few looks." Remus walked over to the fireplace and took a pinch of floo powder, a gesture followed by Sirius. "To the Headmaster's office then." Remus went first, and in a moment he was gone. Sirius followed suit, taking a moment to look around the cottage one last time, before he do was gone in a puff of green smoke.

It was a few minutes later that the two men found themselves rolling out of Dumbledore's fireplace, and quickly saw the headmaster pacing back and forth in front of his desk. The man looked up at Sirius, and instantly he could tell that the usual twinkle that had given him much calm over the years was missing.

"Ah gentlemen," the headmaster spoke with alarming calm, "I trust that you have come to visit young Mr. Potter."

"How is he Albus," Sirius asked, his voice hoarse and almost desperate.

"I will show you," was all that Albus could say.

/ - / - / - /

_Harry was in a shapeless void. He wasn't quite sure what was going on around him, or if even there was anything going on around him. For all he knew he was dead. But then...shouldn't his parents be around here somewhere? Harry had no real knowledge of the afterlife and hadn't really come to think about it much. Harry considered everything for a moment and dismissed the idea that he was in fact dead._

_But then this begged the question, where exactly would he be at this particular moment, If he was alive, and though he had accepted that notion for now he did not fully accept it as the truth, than he should be writhing in pain right about now. Harry wasn't sure of all of his injuries, other than the repeated welts and broken legs and such. He had been concentrating heavily on fighting a pain in his stomach, but he didn't know from what. All he knew now was that the pain was completely gone. He was numb to the world._

_There, a moment ago, he thought he could make out a voice. It sounded whispered, and forlorn. He wasn't quite sure who it was. It didn't really matter anyway. It was gone just as quickly and just as suddenly as it had entered. Still, it made Harry mentally smile at the thought._

_Wherever he was, it was better than the Dursleys. He knew he couldn't be there. He must be somewhere safer._

/ - / - / - /

Sirius nearly rushed to his godson's side the moment he entered the infirmary, and was quickly down on one knee, tears welling up in his eyes. He gazed down at the bandaged stick figure that his godson had been reduced to, and it crushed his heart more than a hundred dementors could ever force him to be.

Sirius held his head in silence, not looking up at anyone. Remus and Dumbledore, who had made a motion to accompany him, started moving forward to be with Sirius. They were stopped by Meadowbrook, who crossed from the other side of the room.

"Leave him be," Carl said to the two concerned men, "We'll get him later. We have things to discuss now that he is here." At this, the three men trailed out of the room, leaving Sirius, who had heard none of the exchange, to his thoughts with his godson.

"Pronglet," Sirius began in a whispered tone, never daring to look at Harry. "This is my fault...I should have...No I can't do this..." Sirius looked up and stared at Harry with resolve in his eyes. "I will make this right. You will have the home I promised you, no matter what the cost." Sirius pulled a chair from over on the other bed and sat down next to his godson, holding his good hand in both of his. Silently, Sirius maintained his vigil, never wavering from his position.

/ - / - / - /

_The blackness was starting to irritate Harry. If he was dead and this was all there was he found it throughly anti-climactic. His non-corporeal mind managed a slight chuckle, as much as any non-corporeal mind could be expected to chuckle, at having a joke at a time like this._

_Harry tried to scan through his memories of things he might remember. He remembered the pain, but blocked as much of that out as possible. He remembered talking with the Headmaster for a brief moment, but couldn't remember much else._

_There was a man, another man, who was...peering through his thoughts. He had found some thing...like Voldemort's rebirth...that made Harry's mind shudder at remembering them. He tried to force them down to deal with at a later time._

_If someone had been in his mind though, then he must not be dead. Deciding on that as the best course of action at last, he started onto step two...how to wake up. He began thrashing about in his mind, trying to focus on anything that might lead him back to the surface and the waking world. He couldn't quite get anywhere though. He couldn't find the right direction. Sighing he resolved to try again later, when his strength had returned._

/ - / - / - /

There was a meeting of some great importance in the office of Albus Dumbledore. Several people were in attendance. Dumbledore sat at his desk and contemplated the assembled group. Off to one side stood Lupin and Sirius, who looked more haggard than he ever had once he had finally been pried from Harry's side. To the other side stood Arthur and Molly Weasley, each one standing firm. In the middle, away from everyone else, was Carl Meadowbrook, who was similarly observing the argument going on.

"No offense Sirius," Arthur continued as Carl got in on the conversation. "But you can't possibly expect that plan of yours to work."

"It will work," Sirius whispered.

"Sirius," Molly interjected, going into full protection mode, "Regardless of whether or not you weren't on the run from the Ministry, Harry won't get the love and support he needs from you right now. I know the kind of life you used to lead before James and Lily were...regardless it is not one suited to raising a 15 year old child. I should know, I've done it four times already."

"My life has changed," Sirius said flatly, staring at the red-headed matriarch of the Weasley clan. "12 years in Azkaban tends to dampen your spirits just a little." There was a pause at the seriousness of it. Sirius took the opportunity to continue.

"I am the boy's godfather. I never should have given him to Hagrid that night at Godric's Hollow. It's a decision I've lived to regret for the last 13 years of my life and it's a decision that makes me all the more resolved to set things right." Sirius raised his head slightly, more confident at his standing. Molly looked like he was about to interject when Meadowbrook stood up.

"Sirius is right," he said firmly, illiciting a few strange glares from the others in the room, "but more importantly he is what is best for the boy at the moment. Harry's mind is awash with confusion about everything: his life, his future, destiny, trust. The one rock that holds it together is Sirius. Harry trusts you virtually unconditionally," Meadowbrook said this, turning towards Black. "His earliest happy memories are of dreams of some distant relation coming to take him away. I believe you were that relation.

"The only concern is, as you mentioned, how to get past the Ministry. I can't hold back the tide forever. Fudge has become incessant on being updated concerning the boy's condition and sooner rather than later the papers will get word of this. We have to act now before we lose the element of control." Sirius nodded and began to contemplate everything. The door opened quickly and everyone turned to find Severus Snape walking in, his robes billowing.

"Headmaster I wish to speak with you on..." he trailed off as he noticed everyone else standing in the room, his eyes particularly dropping on one Sirius Black. "I see then," he said, contemplating his next move. "I suppose I should announce my intentions then. I have figured out a way to help young Mr. Potter."

"Why would you want to help him," Sirius barked out, anger rising in his voice.

"It is for reasons far beyond your mind dog. Need I remind you that one word from me and I could have you back at Azkaban in a moment's notice. Be that as it may, the boy needs you." He paused a moment before continuing, "And I can give that to you. My testimony about Wormtail will provide Sirius the evidence he needs to clear his name." The crowd stared at Snape in silence, his words ringing in their ears. It was Dumbledore who spoke first.

"As much as I admire your strength of character Severus," he said calmly, "I'm afraid that cannot be done. You would jeopardize your...position...and we can't afford to lose you."

"I'm afraid it's out of your hands Albus," Snape said with more than a little vitriol in his voice while using the headmaster's given name. "It's a decision that I myself have made. I made Mr. Potter a promise...one I intend on keeping. I won't let another person be harmed like I...like he was." Few people but Sirius caught the slip up.

/ - / - / - /

He scurried across the Hogwarts floor, having traveled a long way in a short time. He made care to avoid any people who might be lurking about the castle, but he knew that he would be protected even here. After all, who had the common sense to be on the lookout for a common variety garden rat?

Peter Pettigrew was doing his master's bidding, much as he hated to. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't enjoy slinking about. He didn't enjoy living in the dark. He often wondered how it had gotten to this point. He had joined the Death Eaters out of necessity, to protect his mother from the Dark Lord's hands. Not that it had helped him in the long run. The minute that He had been destroyed by James' whelp it wasn't long before his mother was tortured to death by the Lestrange family.

Peter still had the nightmares of judgment. It was often said that when you betray a friend, they haunt you in your dreams after death. Peter knew exactly what they meant. There were many nights when he saw James and Lily, just staring at him from beyond a darkened veil, never saying a word but simply looking at him with gazes of anguish ingrained across their cold, dead faces.

But at this point what could he do? His loyalty to the Dark Lord had to be absolute. There was no way for him to waver now. That bridge had been burned long ago. Maybe if he had never betrayed James and Lily, he could have been like Snape and play both sides. But now...it was far beyond that being an option.

The rat shook his head as much as possible and tried to focus on the mission at hand. He had to find the boy. Hogwarts was the obvious location. If the boy was in trouble than that wretched do-gooder Dumbledore would take him here.

Swiftly Peter crept into the hospital ward, looking every which way to find if anyone was here. Not spotting anyone, he crawled further over towards the only occupied bed. He couldn't quite see upwards from his vantage point, but since he was certain no one could see him...

In a flash where once a rat had been now stood a balding, middle-aged wizard with buckteeth and a shabby two piece suit on. He looked around for a moment before his gaze settled on the slumbering teen in front of him.

Peter cocked his head as he looked at the boy. _'He looks so much like James,'_ he thought to himself. It was the same thing that went through his head every single time he saw him, from the first moment on the Hogwarts train to this very moment now. Pettigrew took stock of the boy's physical stock. Something terrible had happened to him. Both of his legs were propped up but were not as bandaged as they would have been had they been broken within a day. Breaks that severe must have come from something a few days earlier, and much greater as well. He looked at the boys body and noticed it was...well...virtually not there. He had always been thin, Peter noted, but not to the point where he made the Dark Lord look like a slovenly pig.

Peter knew he had to find out what was going on, but he couldn't risk waking the boy. He needed a way to get into his mind. Remembering the books he had read in the restricted section (stealing James invisibility cloak had been useful for something after all) and came to the idea of legilimency. Though he was not entirely schooled on the subject, he did know enough that it could be performed with eyes closed.

Peter pulled out his wand and stuck it on Potter's temple. He whispered to himself, "Legilimens," before the images began to play in his mind.

/ - / - / - /

_Harry had been content to remain in his silent prison for a while longer before trying to break free. He couldn't sense anything going on around him unless he tried incredibly hard. If he focused his mind enough he could feel the faint echoes of magical cores surrounding him. He had identified only three thus far, those of his closest friends: Ron and Ginny Weasley and one Hermione Granger._

_The last two had brought mixed feelings into his mind as he contemplated everything. He liked Ginny, maybe even liked her in that sort of way, but Hermione also elicited the same feelings...but different at the same time. It was confusing and Harry wished he could have someone to talk about it._

_In that instant fear and doubt gripped at his very essence. He felt like he was being pulled in five different directions. Before him images, echoes of his memories began to fly through his mind's eye in rapid succession. Harry tried to shut himself off from the assault, tried to close off his mind from the onslaught, but the barrage continued from all sides, and Harry was practically powerless to stop it._

_In one last gasp as he felt the sadness, pain, anger and despair that had gripped him for weeks on end start to collapse in on him again, he pushed forward out of his very being with raw, pure emotion. He coupled any images he could that were positive. His parents...good for a start. His friends...helped as well. They maintained the breach, but didn't expel the intruder. Whoever was doing this was pushing forward, but hesitantly, as if he didn't know what to do._

_Finally, in a flash he switched focused to his godfather, the one person that he knew loved him for him, and rallied around that image. It was that strength that expelled the intruder, and Harry collapsed mentally...exhausted once more._

/ - / - / - /

The raw explosion of power caused Pettigrew to go flying back away from Harry, landing a few feet away, his wand clattering to the ground. Peter sat stunned at Harry as he saw the boy fidget uncomfortably in bed, trying to fight off whatever it was he had just seen.

Peter of course knew what he had seen, he had seen it all too. Everything was as fresh and dark in his mind as he could manage, and Pettigrew was stunned by everything. The guilt. The shame. Everything the boy felt was his fault.

It dawned on Peter that this was no place to be right now. The wards protecting the boy would have quickly had time to alert his protectors as to the intrusion and Peter shouldn't be here if Sirius was...he didn't want to dwell on that thought. Quickly he transformed back into a rat and scurried off, alone with his thoughts. He had to report to the Dark Lord. No! He had to...

Peter wasn't quite sure what to do at that particular moment besides run.

/ - / - / - /

The explosion in his office had awoken Dumbledore from his slumber. That explosion could only be caused by one thing. Someone had done something to Harry. Without a moment's hesitation he had his wand in hand, makeshift robes on, and was out the door. Making note he tapped his wand on a device just outside the door twice, alerting everyone to what was going on.

In a flash everyone was in the room and looking down at Harry, who's face was contorting with pain. Hermione and Ginny both stared at him with ragged eyes, there mouths curled tight at seeing him in pain. Ron held a hand on each of their shoulders, trying to calm himself.

No one could contain Sirius. At a moment's notice he was at his godson's side, holding his hand tightly. Sirius leaned forward and whispered something in Harry's ear, which seemed to calm him for a moment.

Meadowbrook came running in after Remus had gone running after Sirius. He saw the boy and saw the contorted way his face was drawn. Moving quickly to the boy's side he took out his own wand and waved it a few times, drawing him back to a more calm form of sleep. Confident that the boy would be alright for a moment, Carl looked around and found a small wand standing just outside the bed. He walked over and grabbed it a moment. Lupin looked up and his eyes went wide.

"Wormtail," he whispered...drawing a response from Sirius almost immediately. Sirius looked up and glanced at Remus and then at Meadowbrook, who held the wand on high.

"Pettigrew," Sirius uttered with vile bale rising up in his throat. Remus could see the look of madness filter into his eyes and quickly pulled Sirius away from Harry.

"Padfoot," Remus said firmly, as he tried to calm Sirius down, something that could often be considered a fool's errand. "Calm down. Yes Peter was here...but he's not anymore. Calm down Sirius. For Harry." Sirius' eyes stared at Remus, and for a moment it appeared as if Sirius would strike the man straight in the jaw. But eventually his muscles lightened and his face loosened up. He nodded slowly and turned back to his godson.

And what he saw made his heart melt and ache at the same time.

Staring up at him were the sparkling green eyes of one Harry James Potter. Sirius could see the fear and shame in the boy's eyes, something he knew all too well. Harry didn't have a smile on his face, merely a quizzical look as if he were dreaming.

"S-Sirius," Harry whispered, causing all that had not noticed to quickly turn to the boy with a mixture of relief and joy on their faces at seeing him alive. Maybe not well, but alive. Sirius rushed back to Harry's side and sat next to him, his face inches from Harry's.

"Yes. Yes Harry it's me. Please, stay still. Your safe now. Everything's going to be alright." Sirius didn't know how much of that was true, but he wanted to keep the boy's hopes up.

"W-where am I," Harry glanced around, making a few motions. "Hogwarts?" He turned his head as much as he could to see his godfather and look at him for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

"Yes Harry. We brought you here. For safety. And you are safe." That was all Harry needed to here. With more strength than humanly possible, Harry jumped forward with his arms and grabbed frantically onto Sirius' neck and head, clinging to him as if his life depended on it. Perhaps it did. Sirius simply returned the embrace, tears draining freely from his face, and whispered again, "You're safe."

In the corner of the room, unnoticed by all, a small rat stood watch. In that moment all the doubt washed away, and Peter Pettigrew knew what he had to do.


	6. Chapter 6: A Gryffindor at Last

A/N: It should be noted that Harry's mental condition will be dealt with more at length in the next chapter, as this chapter helps set the stage for a major plot development.

Chapter 6: A Gryffindor at Last

Harry released from the embrace he had engulfed Sirius in and leaned back against his pillow, trying desperately to get into a sitting position so that he wasn't dwarfed by everyone. His whole body ached and from what he could tell, he was in a bad way. Both his legs were propped up but no longer in casts, and his arm was still slung on his chest virtually useless. He tried to crack the knuckles of his left hand, and felt it stiff with disuse. With Sirius' help he managed to get into a partially sitting position, the pain worth it.

He still wasn't quite sure where he was. But he did have a good idea of what had happened. He glanced around at everyone staring at him, and saw mixed faces of relief, anguish and happiness dotting the mixed crowd. He even saw Snape staring at him, and could have sworn he almost saw a smile grace the man's lips. Before he could react to it he was approached by the side from a man he didn't recognize, causing Harry to immediately flinch backwards and stare at him fearfully. The assembled crowd seemed partially shocked at the display, but the other man simply smiled. Sirius hushed Harry, and he quickly looked to his godfather.

"It's alright Pronglet," Sirius explained. "This man is a healer, he helped you all this time." Harry nodded slightly, trusting what Sirius said. The man continued smiling down at the boy, and began to speak.

"It's nice to finally see those eyes of yours," he began. "I am Carl Meadowbrook, a healer at St. Mungo's and one of Professor Dumbledore's personal friends. I know you're probably going to want out of here quickly but I want you to understand that you are still very weak. I wouldn't try walking for another day or two, and even then only for short distances." Harry nodded. He didn't have much desire to go anywhere at the moment given the pain his body was in.

"Madame Pomfrey can administer some pain numbing draughts now that you are awake, I didn't want to mix too much of them with the sleeping draught I gave you. You'll also need plenty of nourishment potions, though I think we can try some normal food here in a little while." Meadowbrook leaned forward a bit, causing Harry to scoot back as much as he could. Sirius gave him a small squeeze on the shoulder.

"Now, this might be hard but...just before you came in here there was another man. He...did something, we aren't sure what. Do you know?" Harry frowned as he tried fiercely not to remember, silently he nodded his head.

"He...it was like images running through my mind I...I saw things and...remembered..." Harry was trying hard not to go to deeply into the deep emotional scars that had been scratched by the incident and Meadows simply nodded. He looked at Dumbledore who simply nodded back, the same thought running through their mind. Meadowbrook turned back to Harry and spoke to him again reassuringly.

"Listen, I also want to tell you that there's going to be some difficult times ahead." He paused a moment but continued. "I don't want to sound like I'm patronizing you, so I'll be blunt. You're going to have to discuss certain things..." Harry's eyes went wide and he shook his head forcefully, not really caring that he looked like an 8 year old when he did it.

"I know it's difficult Harry but it has to be done, so these things don't fester inside of you. I promise you though, we won't rush things, and we won't talk about them unless you want to." Hesitantly, and at Sirius' urgings, he gave a small nod. Meadowbrook stood up and regarded the crowd. "Well, you have a lot of visitors. Don't try and keep him up too much he still needs his rest. Professor Snape," the hook-nosed man turned slightly at the mention of his name, "I'd like to have a word with you." At this the mentioned professor and Meadowbrook left the room, with the Potions Master taking one last glance at Harry before stalking off. Harry's friends and family slowly circled around him, smiling down on him as much as they could. Harry felt a little uneasy about all the attention, and he looked into his godfather's eyes which gave him a reassuring twinkle.

Over the course of the next two hours everyone sat around Harry's bed, telling him stories of their summer up to that point. Harry simply kept quiet, attempting to smile where he could and laughing when Sirius told him of the wonders of television. After several hours of listening to their tales, Madame Pomfrey came over carrying a small tray of potions. She set the tray down next to Harry and began to shoo everyone away.

"Go on now, Mr. Potter needs his rest." There were grumbled complaints from everyone around, most notably from Sirius, but Harry nodded his head and they all reluctantly left the room. Harry turned an eye toward Madame Pomfrey, trying to present a smile.

"Thank you, I didn't like the crowd..." Poppy looked down and regarded him for a moment, and then smiled back.

"Drink these potions and then get some rest. Hopefully you'll be able to stay awake longer tomorrow." She smiled again and waved her hand, dimming the lights, and left her charge to sleep.

/ - / - / - /

Sirius couldn't remember the last time he had been happier. Just seeing Harry again nearly brought tears to his ragged eyes. He walked down the corridors of Hogwarts, feeling almost light as a feather. The sorrow and pain of the years seemed to wash away from him for a brief moment as he thought of the young boy's sparkling eyes, only to quickly return the very next moment as he thought of the fear that lurked behind them. Sirius had been no fool. He had seen the way the boy was fearful of the slightest touch, though he seemed to be putting up a front for everyone else.

Sirius headed for the headmaster's office and was close to reaching there when he was intercepted by Remus. Sirius looked at the office again but Remus held him back slightly.

"I have to talk with Dumbledore more about this plan of mine," Sirius stated simply. "I have to be able to clear my name for Harry's sake." He thought a moment before adding, "And that traitor Wormtail could still be lurking about." Remus nodded, his face paling at the thought of Wormtail.

"Be that as it may," Remus responded, "I don't think you should be going in there right now. The Minister will be arriving shortly." Sirius' eyes widened. "They are going to plead your case to him. With Snape's testimony hopefully it will be enough to get you the trial you deserved 13 years ago." Sirius scoffed at this.

"Come on Remus," Sirius said desperately, "That old buffoon doesn't care about clearing my name. He doesn't care about anything but getting re-elected and keeping his power. You've seen what he's said about Lord Voldemort." It was true, Remus thought. The man had quickly gone into denial about the evidence of Voldemort's return quickly following the conclusion of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Remus nodded slightly but continued to argue.

"Be that as it may, I believe Dumbledore and Meadowbrook have come up with a package of...incentives...to force the Minister to agree to at least rethink the case. All you need is a trial and the chance to defend yourself with Veritaserum. Once that is done then the Minister will have no choice but to overturn your conviction." Sirius considered Remus quickly his eyes wary.

"And what's to stop him from locking me away again just to spite me?" he asked. Remus almost laughed at the paranoia, but given the current minister...

"Again, I think Dumbledore holds enough sway to keep that from happening." Remus thought for a moment before continuing. "If you like you can see the meeting. Not as you are of course but..." Sirius gave Remus a toothy grin...that quickly turned to the panting mouth of a large black dog. Remus smiled and scratcher the dog behind the ears, grabbing a leash from his robes and hooking it to a collar he had conjured for 'Snuffles.'

Unbeknownst to Sirius, Remus cast a small charm on the dog, keeping him in that form for the time being. In case things didn't go as planned, it wouldn't be prudent for anyone to have Sirius barging into existence right in front of the minister. Remus patted the dog on the head again and led him to the gargoyle blocking the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Muttering the password, Remus and the disguised Sirius walked into the meeting.

/ - / - / - /

Cornelius Fudge was not a happy man. He was not having a good day as it was. After yet another argument with the goblin ambassador over some such thing that he didn't really care about, Cornelius was left to worry once again about the most famous person in the wizarding world's well-being.

It had been a few days since the aurors had collected the boy's guardians at Number 4 Privet Drive, but Cornelius had been unable to get the particulars of what had happened. Thanks to his inside man in Dumbledore's camp he had been able to garner enough. The boy had been abused. Badly. As in near death. Ever the opportunist, Fudge had decided to try and take advantage of the situation...to score some points with the voters out there so to speak.

He knew he could no longer discredit the boy as he had planned on doing, when word of all this got out the collective wizarding world would likely rally behind him in a show of support and if he was on the wrong side when that tidal wave of support came up...well Fudge had no intention of cleaning out his desk anytime soon. No, Fudge had thought, he could instead use the boy's predicament as a way of creating a distraction from the wretched crusade that Dumbledore was engaging in with this You-Know-Who nonsense. It would provide him with a few months of cover, ones in which he could plan his next move. And in the meantime he could place the boy in a proper wizarding family, the Malfoys came to mind, and let him quietly fade into the background.

Of course he counted on stiff opposition from Dumbledore, what he hadn't counted on was that old stick in the mud Carl Meadowbrook sticking his crooked nose in his business.

Meadowbrook came from one of the more prominent wizarding families in the whole of Britain. The Meadowbrooks were almost as wealthy as the Malfoys and even more charitable with their wealth. The whole lot of them had been in Hufflepuff at Hogwarts, and their loyalty was notorious. As was this particular Meadowbrook's loyalty to one Albus Dumbledore. Meadowbrook was renowned both as a healer and an orator and he had powerful allies on the Wizengamot. In short, he could make Fudge's life a living hell.

The machinations of how to combat this...Fudge was still working on.

He had arrived at this meeting thinking it would be a discussion on young Harry's well-being. In fact it had started off that way. But then Meadowbrook had begun suggesting possible guardians for Harry...when the conversation had taken a serious detour.

Fudge now currently sat in the Headmaster's office, his jaw firmly planted on the floor, as he looked around at the assembled party. Meadowbrook was in the center of the room, pacing back and forth as he usually did during his lengthy speeches. Dumbledore was behind his desk, thoughtfully stroking his beard and adding his voice where Meadowbrook was lacking in information. Also in the room were Arthur and Molly Weasley, another pair Fudge had been none too happy to see, and a man Fudge had met once or twice but couldn't quite put a name on. He later found out it was Severus Snape, the Potions Master.

Fudge continued to hold his mouth open as he considered what Meadowbrook was suggesting. He turned to Dumbledore and nearly smirked. "Professor," he began, "I think you're renowned friend here has finally gone off the deep end." He turned back to Meadowbrook, "You actually want me to reopen the case of Sirius Black!?"

"Yes," Meadowbrook stated plainly, "We have obtained post facto evidence that will clear his name." He remained silent, holding his cards as close to his vest as possible. The next few moments would be important. Fudge simply smirked at him, borderlining on laughing. What Meadowbrook was suggesting borderlined on lunacy. Part of him wondered if he had overestimated the man.

"Well then..." Fudge said with the smirk never leaving his face, "I suppose I should see this evidence...just to humor you." Meadowbrook maintained his calm and merely opened the floor for Snape to step forward.

"Minister," Snape began, "Some time ago I was interested to learn certain things from...a Death Eater." He let that sink in and then continued. "I was shocked to learn that this man was in fact not only alive...but he was in fact the man who had betrayed the Potter's location. He then framed Sirius Black for the murder...and the murder of twelve muggles that followed." Fudge smiled, still nearly laughing.

"I don't suppose you happened to catch the name of this phantom Death Eater." Snape nodded.

"Peter Pettigrew."

At this Fudge could no longer contain himself. He burst out laughing, practically coming out of his seat. After several minutes of this, not noticing the new arrival to the room, he finally sat up and regarded everyone.

"So let me get this straight. You want me to reexamine the case of a bloodthirsty murderer who's on the loose...and the evidence you have is some half-blooded twit who talked with a ghost..." He looked at Dumbledore, his eyes suddenly becoming very serious. "One should wonder why you even want to do this Dumbledore. I know you've had your sympathies for Black in the past...but this is far different. I certainly hope you haven't been...hiding him."

"Not at all Cornelius," Dumbledore replied with all the sincerity befitting the wise old man. It didn't matter to him that he was flat out lying at this point.

"Regardless of what you may think Minister," Snape returned, "It is the truth. I can swear to it under Veritaserum." Fudge looked at him, a devilish grin appearing on his face.

"Oh I'm sure you could Professor. After all...who better than the Potions Master at Hogwarts to be able to use a hidden capsule of the antidote of Veritaserum while he's being questioned." At this point Meadowbrook had seen enough. Time for the posturing to begin.

"Are you insinuating that Mr. Snape would willingly violate the law," Meadowbrook asked rhetorically. When Fudge didn't answer he pressed forward. "I know you're up for re-election soon Cornelius. I also know that...amongst some of the Wizengamot you're none too popular right now."

"Now see here," Fudge yelled, standing up to face down the older man. "I will not be bullied into a hapless investigation! Even if I did decide to throw you a bone and entertain your little fantasy Carl, your entire story is based on the ideas of a dotty old fool," he motioned to Dumbledore who remained silent, "a less-than-trustworthy ex-Death Eater of a Potions Master" he motioned to Snape who sneered at him, "and the ghost of a man who's been dead for 13 years." He paused a moment before continuing, "Peter Pettigrew is a hero who tried to capture Black himself. The poor man sacrificed himself like the true friend he was to the Potters!" There was a growl coming from the dog in the corner of the room, but it was quickly followed by the dog looking around and then back up to the newest entrant of the room. Fudge turned around and saw Remus Lupin there, holding a wand in his hand, twiddling it back and forth.

"Sorry, Snuffles doesn't like politicians." Remus looked down at the dog who just gave him a forced look of obedience. Remus seemed to mouth the word sorry to him, but looked back up at Fudge quickly. "I'm sorry to interrupt but seeing as how this meeting is about Harry's future..."

"Yes, quite right," Fudge replied, "though you should have no part in it...werewolf." Remus' features darkened at this. "Harry should be declared a ward to the state immediately. We will begin our own examination of him and then place him in a caring home. Several families, the Malfoys chief among them, have expressed interest in adopting the boy..." The Weasley's eyes went wide and Arthur went to say something but Meadowbrook stopped him.

"I'm afraid I won't let that happen Minister. You see, I have been retained as the boy's guardian ad litem, and as such I represent his best interest. And if you think for one second that I am going to let that boy anywhere near Lucius Malfoy, you are sorrowfully out of touch with reality." The force behind his voice nearly threw Fudge for a loop. Meadowbrook was usually calm, not this animated.

"After everything you've told me about believing ghost stories," Fudge replied, "I think I have sufficient grounds to dismiss you based on incompetency." Meadowbrook stiffened. Lupin took the moment to interject.

"I'm afraid it's not a ghost story," he said, handing out the wand to Fudge. "If you have the Aurors check that out, you'll find it belongs to Peter Pettigrew. I'm certain Mr. Ollivander can testify to that as well. Furthermore you will find that the last spell cast was cast only a few hours ago." Fudge considered it for a moment. It was closer to tangible proof but...he shook it off quickly.

Suddenly the large black dog that Lupin affectionately called Snuffles lifted his nose high into the air. He let out a vicious growl and tried to break free of Lupin's grasp. The dog fought with ferocity, but Lupin managed to hold his own. He cast a small stunning spell on the dog, internally wincing as he did so. That spell would put him under for a few hours, but it was necessary.

"What the bloody blazes..." Fudge exclaimed, staring at the dog. He ignored it after a moment and turned to the assembled party again. "You certainly haven't brought me a single shred of proof other than a possible wand and an amusing anecdote. In the meantime we will address Mr. Potter's guardianship at a later date." Fudge made a move towards the fireplace but paused and looked at everyone else. "And let me tell you another thing, I'm not so certain that this isn't a ruse to undermine the Ministry and throw us off the trail of Black. Much like your little lies about You-Know-Who Professor." He looked straight into Dumbledore, who sat there and said only one thing.

"The Dark Lord has returned Cornelius. Please accept it and prepare yourself before it is too late."

"ENOUGH!" Fudge finally exploded. "For all I know all four of you are Death Eaters trying to undermine the Ministry with your gobbledygook. Rest assured you WILL be hearing about this later." With a dramatic flare he turned around to exit, only to be stopped by something small and furry approaching. "What the devil," he said, looking down at the floor. A gesture joined by several others in the room. Remus looked down and an angry grimace crossed his demeanor. So that was why Sirius went mad, he thought to himself.

In one instant Fudge stood face to face with his ghost, the very much alive Peter Pettigrew. Peter stood next to the Minister, who's eyes were wide open and his finger pointing straight at him.

"Minister," Peter said, trying to sound confident with his decision to help Harry, "I think we need to talk."

A/N: The reason Pettigrew helps Harry is two-fold. One he knows Sirius cares for him and would be good for him as a guardian (he saw that in the hospital ward) and helping the son of the man he betrayed will help exercise Pettigrew's own demons. Secondly he owes Harry a life debt...and this is his way of helping to repay it.


	7. Chapter 7: The Locked Doors of the Mind

A/N: It's been a while since I updated, but hopefully things might pick up in the future as I approach a few key events. Those interested should note that this singular story will continue till just before the trip to Hogwarts for Harry's 5th year. There is a planned sequel that covers Harry's 5th year, which will obviously be different from canon. I'm not going to worry too much about pairings for this story as a result, as they will be explored more in the future. Right now I'm leaning towards a H/Hr for that story (the sequel), but might change to a H/G if I see enough standing for such a pairing.

Chapter 7: The Locked Doors of the Mind

_He could feel the pain, see the lashings coming. Each one filled him with anger and despair as they rained down on him from all angles._

_In the corner of his mind he saw Cedric, his eyes staring blankly at him in the cold vacumn of death. He felt a rush of jaw-dropping agony from his scar as the face of Cedric morphed into that of Voldemort, his face intoned with sadistic glee as he repeatedly threw the cruciatus at him._

_And still the lashings rained down..._

_One by one he saw those he cared about cut down by the Death Eaters. The Burrow was in flames, his surrogate parents being tortured in front of his eyes._

_And still the lashings rained down..._

_He frantically tried to move, tried to escape whatever was holding him there, but his strength was ebbing. Breathing became harder to accomplish. His mind was shutting down, but the images would not stop replaying themselves._

_He saw Hermione and Ginny, each one dead in his arms. The images repeated themselves like a sadistic slideshow stuck on two frames. He tried anything...anything to make it go away._

_He could hear a door open, and the sound of a belt being undone. Pain was coming in other places now...where they shouldn't be coming from._

_The pain escalated to the point of nearly breaking him. The cruciatus hadn't been nearly this bad. He tried everything to stop the pain, to block it out like he had before. He could hear the shattering of glass and the murmurs of voices just beyond a blackened veil, calling him back from the searing furnace of rage and suffering he was rapidly descending towards._

_Quickly the pain stopped, and blackness came to him...it was oddly calming._

/ - / - / - /

Severus Snape stood over the bed of young Harry Potter, his hand held firmly over the boy's head as he muttered a small spell to try and quell the boy's nightmares. Snape had been assigned to be near the boy on this night, a job he actually volunteered for, despite the protests of the boy's godfather, which brought a telltale sneer to Snape's mouth.

Despite his own reservations about sending the boy to live with a cavalier like Sirius Black, Snape admitted that he had fewer alternatives. He needed a normal life, or at least as normal as could be offered to him, and Sirius was the closest thing he could get to that. The Weasley's might have been close to surrogate family, but the outlandish protectiveness the mother had was a symptom of her own issues that she had never quite dealt with. Snape didn't want that around Harry.

Not that he cared what happened to the brat, of course.

Snape removed his hand and backed away, eyeballing the large glass window that had shattered into a million pieces at the boy's outburst. Removing his wand he muttered "Reparo," at the window, and the shards of glass instantly began to lift up and reform into their proper place. Replacing his wand, Snape took a seat next to the boy's bedside, should he descend into nightmares again. Unfortunately the dreamless sleep draught he was preparing would not be available for another day or so.

His charge safe for the time being, he began to puzzle through the life-altering decisions and commitments that he had made in the last 24 hours. By providing his testimony to Black, and in turn condemning Pettigrew, Snape was essentially staking his post with the side of the light and hoping for the best. He would not be trusted again by the Dark Lord, even if he tried to explain it off as some trick to maintain loyalty to Dumbledore. Seeing the boy in the condition he was in was enough to jostle loose some less than pleasant memories of Snape's own past, strong enough to hurt his compulsion to lie about such things.

In the end he supposed he was going to wind up doing this, one way or another. The life of a spy was one frought with peril, and working as a spy for both sides was even doubly so. If one spent their time looking for the infernal silver lining's, Severus could tell himself he could sleep better at night without having to worry about the wrong person finding things out and jumping to the wrong conclusions.

Not that Snape ever looked for the silver lining, anyway.

He turned and frowned as he saw the beginnings of another nightmare creep over Harry's face. The boy was in for a long road, and Snape knew a few charms that could substitute for the dreamless sleep draught. He pulled out his wand and was about to cast them when Harry's eyes shot wide open, staring up into space. A few moments later they found their way to Snape sitting in the darkness, his pale eyes focused solely on Harry. The boy backed away quickly scrunching up as much as he could under the covers, partly out of fear and partly out of anger. "What are you doing here," he demanded to know, speaking with more determination and ferocity than he had in weeks.

Snape contemplated his response, his mask of calm unperturbed by the accusatory tone. It would not do to rile the boy up, he kept telling himself. "I'm watching over you," he said frankly in a monotone voice. "You were having nightmares. I was going to use a charm to help you sleep if that's alright with you." Harry's eyes never left Snape's face, unsure of what was going on. He backed down the covers slightly, if only to get a better look at the man.

"Just as likely you could cause them," Harry muttered under his breath. For a split second Harry thought he saw the hint of a hurt look on Snape's face, but it quickly faded back behind the actor's mask. Snape seemed to be formulating something to be said, and Harry let him speak.

"I don't understand...fully...everything you've been through," he began, speaking with more candor than Harry ever thought possible, "Nor would I try to. Suffice it to say...Harry," the boy winced at the use of his given name more out of the surprise than the anger, "I am here to help you. Whether you choose to accept it or not is your decision." He sighed and lowered his head, a gesture that Harry immediately didn't recognize, and didn't put him much at ease.

"I realize now," Snape said, seeming to speak to himself as much as he was to Harry, "that you are not your father or your godfather. You are...different." Snape looked up and the moment of vulnerability had passed. "If you ever want to talk about your dreams with someone who has a different point of view than your friends or those you care for the most, then you know where my office is." Harry sat there, the covers falling slightly, shocked. Snape took the moment to mutter under his breath "**_Soporifor..._**" and a pale blue light engulfed Harry, who drifted off to a dreamless and painless sleep. Snape leaned forward and touched the boy's forehead, blowing the darkened hair out of his eyes, and sat back down, resuming his vigilant watch.

/ - / - / - /

_**Boy-Who-Lived is Boy-Who-Was-Abused?!?**_

_Sources close to the Ministry of Magic Department of Child Services have confirmed that the Muggle Guardians of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, are currently being held on charges of child neglect, child abuse, and other egregious charges. It is speculated that Mr. Potter was removed from their home in Surrey some three or four days ago, though his current whereabouts are unknown._

Arthur Weasley dropped the latest edition of the Daily Prophet on the table. His family was currently gathered at a table in the Great Hall in Hogwarts under the auspices of eating breakfast. None of them were to particularly hungry after reading this morning's Prophet.

The paper had skipped over more of the gruesome details, but had essentially gotten the story right. As a result there was a palpable sense of fear for Harry's sake. Though many people would support the famous Boy-Who Lived, many of those were of the unsavory sort, simply trying to use the boy's plight for their own political gain. Others, the Malfoys came to mind, would no doubt use this incident as further ammunition to try and harm him. Another problem was the details of the story itself. Though they had avoided the gory truth, the Prophet still managed to procure certain details of the story that only someone close to the truth would know. This latest development was causing a grim feeling to wash over Arthur.

The door to the Great Hall opened and the whole of the assembled Weasley clan turned to see the new entrants. Professor Dumbledore was walking into the room, flanked by Meadowbrook and Professor McGonagall on either side. Arthur examined the faces of the three elders and quickly deduced that they had already heard the news of the morning. Minerva in particular looked particularly grim, though there was a hint in her countenance that hinted at a severe anger and feeling of betrayal that bubbled beneath the surface. To be honest, Arthur had never seen anything like it before.

"Albus," Molly interjected, drawing Arthur's attention to his wife. "What are we going to do about this. Harry's going to be beside himself with fear and anger when he sees what this rag is printing."Albus looked sad, at least partially, and proceeded to nod with a bit of disdain.

"Yes, but unfortunately there is little we can do about this at the present moment. Now that the proverbial kneazle has been let out of the invisibility cloak, the best that we can do is make the best of the situation." Everyone at the tables looked at him, a bit miffed by his response, though Meadowbrook interceded any comments.

"What I think Albus means is that, while this isn't a particularly good turn of events, it at least came at the opportune time." He paused for a moment, making his way closer to the table, though for the first time there was more than a hint of anger shadowing the corners of his face. "Despite of course," he continued, "the actions of Fudge's inside man." Slowly, yet deliberately, Meadowbrook raised his wand till it pointed right at the slightly worried face of one Percival Weasley. "Mr. Weasley," Meadowbrook calmly replied, "Would you care to explain why Professor McGonagall walked in on you speaking with Madame Umbridge concerning Harry's condition?"

Had Harry been present for the exchange, he likely would have cringed in the thought that Molly Weasley and Vernon Dursley were distant cousins or something, given the rapid pace at which her face was changing colors. It quickly went through several hues of violet, blue and red in repeating patterns, first at the off-handed calm of Dumbledore, then at the accusations of Meadowbrook, and then finally when she saw the defiant look on her son's face that confirmed Meadowbrook's suspicions.

"PERCIVAL WEASLEY!" Molly shouted to the heavens, her voice reverberating off the hanging archways of the Great Hall. The color almost instantly drained from Percy's face as he recognized his mother's Howler voice. Still he stood as defiantly as he could, turning towards his mother, and backing away slightly from the pointed wands of his four siblings and one Hermione Granger.

"It was for Harry's own good," Percy responded, as confidently and defiantly as he could muster given the circumstances. "The Minister merely wishes to help Harry through this trying time, and you all are hurting him by denying him all the resources at his disposal..." he wasn't able to finish. Though there were several wands pointed at him and several hexes waiting on the tongues of the Weasley twins and the younger Weasley siblings, and perhaps even Hermione as well, it was a shimmering yellow light from behind Percy that struck him and cut him short. After a short spell of his features transfixing, the assembled crowd, excluding the Weasley matriarch who was suddenly partially concerned for her third son, was gripped with laughter at what Percy had become. Where had once stood a proudly defiant, if naive young wizard now sat a rather plump, gray bird, with a long protrusion for a beak and short, stubby wings on either side. It looked rather like an overstuffed pigeon all things considered. The bird let out a frantic squawk and began to flutter about like a crazed chicken, causing more of a uproar of laughter from the crowd. Even Molly couldn't avoid cracking a smile and stifling a chuckle. Hermione suddenly got a look of recognition and glanced up at where the source of the hex had come from.

"A dodo bird Professor?" she asked with curiosity. "But I thought they were extinct?"

"Only in the muggle world, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall replied, setting her wand back underneath her sleeve. Dodo-Percy squawked again and managed to waddle his way out of the Great Hall, eager to wait out the transformation for a few short minutes. Following the display, Meadowbrook calmed down enough to continue with his explanation.

"As I was saying before, we can use this to our advantage. For one thing, the fact that the severity of Harry's condition remains unknown to the majority of people, something that we can certainly be grateful for. Secondly it's likely to cause a major upswing in support for Harry, forcing Fudge to be on our side for once." He paused to sit down in a chair, pocketing his wand as he did so, before he continued.

"We have given Fudge a political incentive, and with that he has agreed to our terms. Firstly, Sirius will have a trial. It will be held in two days time and I have the Minister's assurances that it is merely a formality at this point. Once the charges against Black are dismissed, I will petition the court for reinstatement of Sirius Black as the legal guardian of Harry. I foresee no problem with that either." He stopped short, his silence indicating that he was done.

"What did you give him in return," Arthur finally asked.

To this, Meadowbrook smiled. "I promised to hold off on getting his bum sacked. Fudge knows he's in a precarious position. While I myself might be unable to get the job of Minister, nor would I want it, there are any number of candidates whom with my support would be able to take the job. And even without those candidates, I certainly have enough support to see that he would quickly be on his way out the door. I simply said that I would take this action as a sign of good faith on his part. It also grants us insurance. If he does anything to recant on his part of the bargain, I'll recant on mine." The political savvy of Meadowbrook had everyone a little on edge as he described the consequences of his influence should it be gainfully employed.

"In any event," Carl added, "Not going after the Minister allows me time to take up Albus on his generous offer of becoming the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at the start of the term. In addition to my desire to teach, it will help me better care for Harry in dealing with his emotional scars." The mood turned somber again, but Dumbledore tried to raise everyone's spirits.

"I believe that Harry can leave tomorrow, isn't that right Carl?" he asked. Immediately everyone turned to the healer, and smiles broke out as they saw the slight nod of his head.

"Or the day after. I'll be running a few more physical tests this afternoon, and should all of those check out than I see no reason to keep him here. I assume you will be sending him to Sirius' house?" Meadowbrook had a curious look dotted across his face, as even he was unaware of the location of Sirius' house.

"Yes, it is well protected and hidden from certain individuals who would choose to exploit Harry at this time. That is of course, assuming Harry wants to go. We'll leave that up to him." Dumbledore smiled at the crowd, but behind his twinkling eyes were the memories of a recent conversation with Meadowbrook concerning Harry making his own decisions that Dumbledore would rather forget at the moment.

/ - / - / - /

While everyone else planned and ate, Sirius Black was otherwise preoccupied. It was two days till he was free. Two days until he would have his name cleared and he would be able to walk out in the daylight again. He hadn't given a whole lot of thought to everything he was going to do once he was free; the shock of it all was still a bit much to digest. His own scheme, which even if everyone else thought it was ludicrous he kept telling himself it was quite brilliant, was in retrospect overly complicated and too long to plan out. In the end, things had worked out quite brilliantly.

Sirius walked into the hospital ward, eager to spend more time with his godson, when he stopped short. Sitting in front of Harry's bed was Severus Snape, his eyes firmly fixed on Harry. He was slightly slumped over, and his breathing was even, though a bit heavy. Sirius took a moment to regard the man, trying his best to quash the immediate desire to hex him into oblivion. He didn't have long, as Snape turned and glared at him, though with less force than usual. Sirius could now see the man's eyes were bloodshot, and Sirius guessed that he hadn't slept all night long.

"Good morning sunshine," Sirius greeted with a feigned grin on his face, merely gaining a mumbled greetings from Snape in return. Obviously his heart wasn't into it. Sirius turned back to Harry, his serious face once again returning. "How is he?"

"As well as can be expected," Snape responded with an audible sigh. "I had to put him under a sleeping charm to quell his nightmares, and he even managed to break that charm a couple of times." Snape tilted his head, regarding Harry for a moment, and continued speaking as if Sirius were not present. "It's both quite fascinating and quite frightening what dreams can emerge from the locked doors of the mind." Severus trailed off, muttering a few other things to himself, and Sirius for the first time saw the outlines of the fear and repressed emotion that Snape held behind his actor's mask. In that moment, Sirius understood some of what Snape did, and that he could relate to Harry's predicament on an abstract level.

He didn't like the man. He could care less if he walked off a cliff. But Sirius would damn himself if he turned down a potential advantage for his godson. Walking over Sirius pulled up a chair next to Snape, his eyes firmly focused on Harry.

"I'll wait with him till he wakes up," Sirius announced, before turning to Severus. "Get some sleep, you've earned it." Snape did not mutter a word, but instead stood up from his chair and began to walk out of the hospital ward, a slight stagger betraying how tired he actually was. Before Snape left however, Sirius called out to him again. "Severus..." the potions master turned to glance back at Sirius, a blank expression on his face. "Thank you for staying with him," Sirius said, genuine gratitude reflected in his voice as much as possible. Snape merely stared at Sirius for a moment, before stalking out with no further word.

It was a couple of hours before Sirius looked up and saw Harry's eyes breaking open. Almost immediately he scooted his chair closer to Harry and leaned over to face him. "Morning Pronglet," Sirius quietly said, his hands uncontrollably moving the hair out of Harry's eyes. Harry let out a partially satisfied yawn, seeming to have forgotten the nightmares of the night previous for a short moment when he saw Sirius standing over him. He sat up as much as he could, still weak from the ordeal, and Sirius helped prop him up against his pillow.

"Good morning," Harry croaked, coughing a bit to clear his throat. He took a few minutes to gather his surroundings before he looked at Sirius with an arched eyebrow. "Why are you calling me Pronglet?"

"Oh...well...that was from when you were a baby. It's what Remus and I called you, though your father went nuts everytime we did for some strange reason." Sirius offered an animated grin and Harry returned it in part. They simply sat there for a moment, each one trying to enjoy the happiness of the day before it could be brought down. Sadly, Sirius was the one to break the news.

"Harry, the Daily Prophet posted a story today. They left out the gory details, but they pretty much got everything else right." Harry let out a deep sigh, his eyes closing slightly as he digested the information. Finally, after several seconds, he nodded.

"I suppose then that everyone else knows how much of a weakling I am," he dejectedly said, more than a hint of shame in his voice. Almost immediately Sirius forced him out of that particular train of thought.

"Nobody thinks you're weak Harry," Sirius began, trying to remain as calm as he could. "And anyone who does is a blithering idiot." Harry looked like he was going to interject, but Sirius waved him off. "What could you have done Harry? You couldn't risk getting expelled and be forced to live with..._them_...all the time." There was a long, pronounced pause. Harry didn't really have an answer for that. After several seconds, Sirius wrapped an arm around Harry and smiled. "I have a bit of good news for you..." Before Harry could ask what it was their moment was disturbed by Madame Pomfrey's hurried steps through the ward.

"Ah Mr. Potter. You're awake." She glanced at Sirius for a moment as she set a tray of potions and a small platter of food in front of Harry. "Eat as much as you think you can handle, but drink those nourishment potions." She motioned to the three small green bottles off to the side. Harry nodded and Pomfrey turned to Sirius. "Thank you for relieving Severus. The man threatened to hex me when I tried to kick him out." At that she bade farewell and turned back towards her office. Harry looked confused for a moment, then turned to Sirius.

"Snape was still here this morning?" he asked, a look of surprise clearly showing on his face.

Sirius nodded. "He stayed with you all night." Harry offered a small smile of recognition, causing Sirius' eyebrows to raise slightly, but he held off for the moment. Instead, he merely sat there, enjoying the sight of his godson eating normal food for once.

Over the next few hours people began to trickle in and continued their visits with Harry. For his part Harry remained relatively quiet throughout, still running over events in his mind. He did laugh at the fate that had befallen Percy earlier that morning, earning smiles from everyone else. Eventually it seemed as if all the stories had been told twice over, when Harry turned to Hermione with a serious look on his face.

"Hermione," he clearly asked, getting the younger witch's attention almost immediately, "I was wondering if I could ask you a favor?"

"Of course Harry," she happily replied, a smile beaming on her face, "Anything."

"I was wondering if you could set up some kind study schedule for me for my summer work." There was a profound silence in the room, everyone staring at Harry as if he'd gone back into a coma.

"Harry," Sirius was the first to interject, "I don't think you need to really worry about those things right now."

"Yeah mate," Ron said with a bit of stunned shock in his voice. "Surely these things can wait?"

"Yes I do and no they can't," Harry replied firmly. "I need to get it done, and more importantly I need to take my work more seriously." Sirius looked to interject but Harry held up his hand, "Not just because of...but also because of the fact that Voldemort is back and I need to be ready." Off to the side Dumbledore stood, his eyes twinkling with pride and a glint of fear lurking behind them as he realized an important time was nearing.

"I'll help you anyway I can Harry," Hermione replied confidently, and Harry offered a half-smile at this before turning to Dumbledore.

"Professor, I was wondering if you could give me my booklist for next year early." He paused a moment before continuing, "I figure I might have a lot of downtime...wherever I wind up." Dumbledore simply nodded.

"I believe that can be arranged Harry. I believe I can also get copies for your friends as well so that they may join you in your studies." Harry smiled, but Ron let out an animated groan.

"Blimey, they're all turning into Hermione." The smile on his face stopped any hurt feelings of chiding from coming to the surface. Finally there was silence again, as Harry looked a bit morose.

"That's another thing isn't it," he said aloud to seemingly no one. "I've no place to go. I mean I can't just stay here all summer." He looked over at Ron. "And I can't impose on your family that way either."

"You wouldn't be imposing Harry," Ginny chimed in, "Mum certainly wouldn't think so."

"It won't be a problem anyway," Sirius said, causing Harry to look at him. "If you're agreeable to it," he continued, a smile broadening across his face, "I have a house in London that you can stay at permanently."

Harry sat stunned for a moment. This was too good to be true, he kept telling himself, though there were a few tears at the implied notion. Caught up in the hullabaloo, Sirius had neglected to repeat his surprise to Harry. "P-Permanently?" Harry managed to stammer out, and Sirius nodded.

"Yes. I always said if you wanted a home outside of...well suffice it to say I'm here to deliver."

"But...what about the Ministry. You're still..." Sirius barked out a laugh, and Harry's smile grew wider.

"You should have seen it Harry. The Minister was getting all steamed up when everyone confronted him about giving me a trial, as if upholding my civil rights was some worldly offense, when suddenly the rat Wormtail popped up and began to confess everything." Harry rubbed his eyes a bit to keep the tears at bay. "Long story short, in two days Meadowbrook and I are going before the Wizengamot for a formal trial, where my name will finally be cleared. Afterwards, if you want me to, we're going to file a petition for the reinstatement of my guardianship over you."

Harry let out a bit of a laugh mixed with tears. He nodded, wiping his eyes again, "I'd like that very much." Sirius leaned forward and the two of them embraced. For several moment they stayed that way, and Sirius whispered into his ear.

"I'm sorry I haven't been there these last few years, but all that's going to change. We've come to it at last Harry. Finally, you're coming home."

A/N: Up next, with hopefully not too long a wait, will be the trial of Sirius Black. And the Dursley's will get their comeuppance soon, don't you worry about that.


	8. Chapter 8: The Trial of Sirius Black

A/N: As I said before this particular story will not have a ship in it, and I am still undecided on the ship for the eventual sequel. I am leaning H/Hr because of the inclination that Hermione is more mature to handle the given situation with Harry, and because of the fact that this takes place before the canon sixth book, something that makes the H/G Pairing a tad more difficult to create. On the flipside of the coin I can see the potential for H/G as well, given the fact that Ginny would be better at getting Harry's mind off of the situation he is in. Plus the experience in the chamber provides some basis for understanding Harry's plight as well on an emotional level (whereas Hermione might be more academic.)

The only thing I will say is that Harry's 5th year will be decidedly different from the book.

I'm also taking ideas on how the Dursleys should be dealt with. I have a nifty little punishment set aside for Baby Beluga (aka ickle Duddeykins) but am at a loss for creative ways of dealing with the parents other than shipping them off to Azkaban. Any help would be greatly appreciated.

Anywho, sorry for the longer than usual Author's Notes, just thought I'd explain myself a bit on where I'm coming from on the relationship angle. Enough of my rambling, onto the story.

Chapter 8: The Trial of Sirius Black

Carl Meadowbrook considered himself an honest man simply making his way in the world. To say that he was without prejudice or malice would be a severe overestimation of his character however. He didn't readily tolerate stupidity, nor did he tolerate those who would attack the people he considered his friends.

Harry Potter fell into the category of friend, Carl had quickly decided.

To be honest he still didn't know much about the boy, but sifting through his memories that day, the few happy ones he could conjure given the circumstances, Carl believed he had a brilliant heart, even if he was a bit slow in certain academic proceeds. Something Carl blamed himself for after a quick check of his records.

It also posed a potentially dangerous situation, but one he could deal with when the time came.

Added to this picture of the boy were the glowing reviews of everyone who seemed to know him. Even, when pressed, Severus had to admit that he was of both partially keen mind and of deep heart. He seemed to have a profound impact on anyone who took the time to know the real Harry Potter, aside from the celebrity that he was made out to be.

It broke Carl's heart that the boy was little more than a political pawn in people's games, and in his own mind he partially justified his own actions as truly being for the boy's benefit. He wanted to be with Sirius, and Sirius was the best thing for him. He hated having been put in the position to have partially made that decision on his own, but the Dursley's had forced his hand.

At the moment he was personally seeing to it that his newly found friend would in fact get his wish. Meadowbrook was sitting in a small office, awaiting the trial proceedings of one Sirius Black. Currently Carl was simply reading over some paperwork concerning the last battery of tests that he had run on Harry a couple of days prior. All told he had made a complete physical recovery for the most part, though he would still be a few weeks yet before his weight and strength had returned to a comparable level of what they were before. He was walking again and his arm was completely healed as well. Undoing the years of abuse in terms of malnutrition would take longer, and even beginning to heal the mental scars could take years, if ever at all. To be honest Carl thought he was handling it quite well, though how much of that was simply a brave face put forward was still yet to be determined.

Carl set down the file folder and looked at his other client, Sirius Black, who was dressed in the finest dress robes Carl could supply on short notice and was currently pacing a hole in his rug. The grizzled man had been tamed somewhat, with a trimmed goatee and haircut that made him more presentable to public society. It brought about a large change in the man and seemed to take years off of him age wise, though all told Carl's best description of him would still be "haggard at best."

Sirius stopped his pacing and flopped down on the small couch in the office. He turned a worried glance towards Meadowbrook and sighed. "You're absolutely certain there's no way that idiot Fudge will double cross me?"

Meadowbrook laughed. "Yes Sirius, but rest assured I have Fawkes on loan from Professor Dumbledore should he try anything outright. Though you know nothing about that, and neither does the Professor." Meadowbrook motioned to the side, where a phoenix sat in the corner, hidden from view from everyone else. "And if he does then you can be certain that in no short order he will be in the unemployment line. Trust me, if he crosses me he'll be lucky if he can ever get hired as a chimney sweep." Meadowbrook smiled, though his eyes belied some of the fate awaiting Fudge should he fail in his bargain.

Sirius smiled for the first time that day. "I suppose he could always become the new Malfoy house elf." Meadowbrook chuckled at this, before standing up.

"You remember how it's going to go?" Sirius nodded. "The most important thing is that you simply answer not guilty to all charges but one...the one about being an unregistered animagus. The punishment will simply be a 1,000 galleon fine and an order to register within the next thirty days. Since you're likely to be given restitution for your twelve years of unlawful imprisonment in Azkaban, the fine will be merely deducted from that. And the registration won't be a problem since I took the liberty of procuring the paperwork for you." Meadowbrook nodded to his desk, where a large stack of parchment stood.

"Don't remind me," Sirius said in a raspy voice, rubbing his right hand as he did, "I thought my arm was going to fall off after all that paperwork." He paused a moment before a wry smile came across his face. "Maybe that's why Voldemort is fighting this war, a war against bureaucracy!"

Meadowbrook could barely stifle a full out laugh before he glanced at his watch. "We best be off," he said finally, and Sirius stood up. Meadowbrook led him out of the office and into the courtroom to await the trial.

The courtroom was rather packed all things considered. Many of the luminaries of the wizarding world had taken the day off to see the infamous Sirius Black, accused murderer and Death Eater stand trial. Some, in fact a good many of them, did not believe the story printed in the Prophet about Pettigrew and his betrayal. Still others sympathized with the man at the outrageous conduct of the Ministry 12 years ago, especially in light of the upcoming Trial of the Dursleys.

Sirius and Meadowbrook ignored most of the crowd, though Sirius turned to receive a reassuring look from the Weasley parents and Remus sitting near the front room. Several tense moments filled the courtroom before the sound of a large gavel pounded and five wizards in judicial robes came walking in. In the center sat Amelia Bones, currently serving as head of the Wizengamot for this trial due to Dumbledore recusing himself due to conflict of interest. To her right sat Minister Fudge, a frown firmly plastered upon his face upon seeing Meadowbrook standing before him. To his right was a toad-shaped woman who quite literally waddled her way to her seat. It was the Minister's Senior Undersecretary, Delores Umbridge. To the left of Madame Bones was Amos Diggory, newly appointed head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and further down was the head of the Auror Department, Rufus Scrimgoeur. Amelia cleared her throat, and addressed the gathered crowd.

"This proceeding to determine both the legal status of one Sirius Orion Black and the guardianship of Harry James Potter will now be in session." She turned down to Meadowbrook. "Solicitor Meadowbrook I trust you realize how rare it is that a situation such as this occurs. Having two diametrically opposed procedures is not common practice."

"I recognize this Madame Bones," Meadowbrook stated with clarity and conviction. "And I thank the court for granting this opportunity. I am here both on behalf of both of my clients, the afore mentioned Sirius Black who is also here in person, as well as Mr. Harry James Potter as his guardian ad litem for these procedures."

"So noted." Bones turned to Black and stared directly at him. Though she often had doubts of his guilt, she still cast the same intimidating presence to him as she did with all defendants. "Sirius Orion Black, you will stand and face the charges against you." Sirius stood, standing in defiance in the face of Madame Bones, drawing a slightly respectful gaze from the elder witch. She turned to the court scribe, "Scribe you will read the charges against Mr. Black and then enter his plea into the rostrum of the court."

A slightly pudgy faced man stood in front of the high bench of the courtroom and turned towards the assembled courtroom. "Sirius Orion Black, you stand charged of being a Death Eater and of aiding and abetting the Dark Wizard He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the commission of crimes against the Wizarding World. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," came a sharp bark from the defendant, that nearly knocked the flustered scribe out of his robes. He repositioned himself and waved his wand, noting the plea before continuing.

"You also stand accused of being in league with You-Know-Who in the conspiracy to commit murder against the Auror James Potter and his wife Lily Evans Potter by way of betrayal of your charge as their secret keeper under the Fidelus Charm. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty!"

"You also stand accused of the murder of one Peter Pettigrew and of 12 muggles in direct violation of the International Statute of Secrecy. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty!"

"You stand accused of being an unlicensed animagus, having obtained such abilities through illicit research, how do you plead?"

"Guilty!" There was a slight murmur at this. The scribe noted the final plea and closed the scroll he was holding, turning back to the head of the court.

"You have pleaded guilty to the crime of being an unlicensed animagus Mr. Black," Madame Bones firmly stated, "You are hereby ordered by this court to pay a fine of 1,000 galleons and to register with the Ministry within thirty days from this proceeding. Do you understand these conditions and accept them?"

"I do, Madame Bones," came the somber reply from Sirius, trying to sound much like his namesake.

"Very well. Mr. Meadowbrook, you may proceed with your client's defense." Meadowbrook nodded.

"Thank you Madame Bones. It is at this time that my client wishes to take the stand in his own defense, submitting to the usage of Veritaserum as is his right." Madame Bones motioned for the auror in the court to take Sirius towards the center of the room and placed him and bound him in the chair. Another auror approached with a small container of clear liquid. Unscrewing the cap on the vial, he pulled out the eyedropper and placed it in Sirius' opened mouth. He dripped three drops onto his tongue and withdrew the cap, replacing it on the vial. There was a few moments that passed before Sirius' eyes glazed over showing the potion taking effect. Carl saw this, and immediately began pacing in front of Sirius as was his custom, and firing off his questions one right after the other.

"What is your name for the court's record?"

"Sirius Orion Black."

"And what was your occupation prior to November 2nd 1981?"

"I was an Auror with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Have you ever been in league with the Dark Lord known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"No."

"Have you ever knowingly associated with anyone in league with You-Know-Who?"

"No, not knowingly."

"Have you _unknowingly_ done so?"

"Yes. My friend, Peter Pettigrew, was, unknowingly to me, a Death Eater."

"Were you in fact the Secret Keeper for James and Lily Potter?"

"No, I was not."

"Who was?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

"How do you know that?"

"I suggested it to James as a way of throwing Voldemort off our trail." There was a collective gasp at the use of the Dark Lord's name. Sirius blinked once, and Meadowbrook motioned for the auror to apply another three drops of Veritaserum. Unabated, Meadowbrook continued with his line of questioning.

"How would that throw Voldemort off your trail?"

"Everyone knew I was James' best friend. Naturally they would suspect me. But no one would suspect Peter."

"When did you learn that Peter had allegedly betrayed you?"

"I went to his house Halloween night to check on him. When I found him gone I just had a bad feeling and rushed over to James' house to make sure they were fine. When I got their the house was in ruins."

"And you knew it was Peter that had told You-Know-Who about the Potter's location?"

"It's couldn't have been anyone else."

"What did you do next?"

"I gave Harry to Hagrid for safe-keeping. He said that Dumbledore wanted to make sure the boy was taken care of. I then went looking for Peter?"

"Did you confront him in a muggle alleyway the night of November 1st, 1981?"

"Yes."

"What happened when you did?"

"He started shouting aloud about how I betrayed James & Lily. Then he cut off his finger and cast a blasting curse at the ground in front of him. The explosion killed 12 muggles."

"But not Peter?"

"No. Like me Peter was an illegal animagus. I saw him scurry down a sewer drain."

"And then...?"

"I was too shocked. Aurors came immediately and disarmed me and bound me. By the next week I was in Azkaban." Sirius blinked again, and the veritaserum was applied a third time.

"No further questions for my client."

Madame Bones and the rest of the jurists nodded as Meadowbrook stepped aside. There were several moments that passed before Rufus Scrimgoeur cleared his voice, offering the first of the questions.

"How did you escape from Azkaban?"

"I slipped through the bars unnoticed because of my animagus form and then swam to shore. The dementors have negligible affects on animals." Scrimgoeur nodded, his only question satisfied. The rest of the panel appeared to be either to stunned, or held back by the look from Meadowbrook the moment they opened their mouths to say something. Umbridge in particular looked like she was ready to tear into Sirius, but a glare from Carl and a shake of the head from Minister Fudge brought her down from her perch temporarily.

"If there are no more questions," Madame Bones said, glancing to both of her sides. "I believe we can take a vote on this matter, provided of course Mr. Meadowbrook has no further witnesses."

Carl took one quick look back at the gallery, giving a nod to Severus Snape before turning back to the bench. "I do not your honors." Sirius began blinking in rapid succession, before he shook his head and was released from the bound chair. The 5 jurists conversed amongst themselves in whispered tones for a few moments, before silence fell over the courtroom.

"Sirius Orion Black, stand before the bench." Sirius did as he was told. "Now, by show of hands, all those who find that Mr. Black should be exonerated of all charges that he is entered a plea of not guilty to, raise your hand." Almost immediately the hands of Scrimgoeur, Diggory and Bones shot up, followed hesitantly by the hand of Minister Fudge and Madame Umbridge. "So noted. All outstanding charges are hereby dropped."

There was a cry of happiness from many in the court, and Sirius felt a sense of relief wash over him. Madame Bones quickly cleared her throat and the cries reduced to a small murmur. "All those who feel that Mr. Black should be awarded the sum of 1,000,000 galleons for his unlawful and wrongful imprisonment, raise your hand." Again three hands shot up, followed even more hesitantly by the hands of Fudge and Umbridge. "So noted. Please note that the sanctioned fine for being an unregistered animagus will be deducted from the afore mentioned restitution." She paused a moment, looking for some paperwork.

"Now, concerning the guardianship of Mr. Harry James Potter, it is cataloged with the Ministry that you are the boy's legal guardian as established in the will of James Potter, is that correct Mr. Black?"

"It is your honor."

"Since there are no other claims of guardianship for the boy, I believe that we can dispense with the need for a hearing at this time. All those in favor of granting temporary custody of Harry James Potter to one Sirius Orion Black, please raise your hands." Bones & Diggory's hands were the first to rise, and after a few moments Scrimgouer's hand joined them. However Fudge and Umbridge's hands stayed at there sides, not budging an inch. Meadowbrook sighed, the fool...

"By a 3-2 decision the measure passes. However Mr. Black as it is not a unanimous decision, you shall not be granted permanent custody of Mr. Potter. A hearing will be set six months from now to determine any possible changes to Harry's custody. Do you accept these terms?"

Sirius forced down a look of contempt at the jurists on the left "I do Madame Bones."

"Very well, I declare this session to be over. You are free to go Mr. Black." Sirius breathed another sigh of relief as the jurists filed out of the courtroom. The friends and family of Harry Potter gathered around one another as the proceeding came to a close. All except Meadowbrook, who sat at his table collecting the few papers he brought with him. As he did, Severus Snape approached him, a somewhat bewildered look on his face.

"Meadowbrook," he calmly asked, drawing the older wizard's attention, "Why didn't you use my testimony? I expected you to use everything to your advantage to sway Fudge..." Meadowbrook smiled and took one good look at Snape's eyes.

"I gambled on my influence with Fudge to be enough to sway him. Besides, we didn't need a unanimous decision anyway." He paused a moment, closing his briefcase and then looking back at Snape, seriousness belying his expression. "And I need you alive Severus. There's more you can offer Harry as a shield, and partially as a mentor."

"But I..."

"We'll discuss it later Severus," Carl said with a smile. "Tell the others that I have some paperwork to attend to and I'll meet with them tomorrow. For now, go and enjoy a well-earned victory." Carl nodded towards Severus and made his way out of the courtroom.

Meadowbrook had learned a long time ago, the hard way, that evil only exists when good people to nothing to stop it. It was a lesson he had taken to heart. He knew his part in the tale would now be reduced to a cursory one. And that the future was in their hands now.

A/N: Really sorry for the delay, and sorry for the length. This fic is almost complete and I'm going to try and knock it out. Thinking maybe three or four more chapters and it hopefully should be done by the middle of April.


End file.
